


The Path of a Time Traveler

by nK0z



Category: Bleach
Genre: Action/Adventure, BAMF Kurosaki Ichigo, But I tweaked it so..., F/M, Female Kurosaki Ichigo, M/M, Mild Language, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Slow Romance, Time Travel Fix-It, Turn Back the Pendulum Arc
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-06
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-05 20:33:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 43,122
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25921378
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nK0z/pseuds/nK0z
Summary: Everything Ichigo held close to her heart was taken from her, leaving her nothing but despair. She is miraculously given a second chance, but how will she prevent history from repeating itself? Furthermore, how will she cope with the ghosts of her past mistakes shadowing over her every move? A tale of the past and the future, the dead and the living, the protector and the protected
Relationships: Ayasegawa Yumichika/Madarame Ikkaku, Ichimaru Gin/Matsumoto Rangiku, Kurosaki Ichigo/Urahara Kisuke
Comments: 47
Kudos: 514
Collections: Time Travel and World Travel





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own Bleach
> 
> Author's note: I was inspired greatly by Swinging Pendulum by cywcross and The Moon's Tears by Arowen12 so if you like this story I highly recommend those as well. I appreciate any constructive criticism. Hope you enjoy!

_Ichigo Kurosaki was her name. Through the meticulous plotting of two madmen, she was born a hybrid of shinigami, quincy, and hollow. An unprecedented and magnificent occurrence. Not only did she possess great power, but steadfast determination and compassion. Like moths to a flame, people drew to her fiery spirit. From age 15, she was thrust into the world of shinigami in which she would face a multitude of challenges. Battle after battle, Ichigo Kurosaki learned how to smile in the face of adversity._

_But she was not smiling now._

OOO

_Ichigo was assessing the horror before her: The Soul Society reduced to rubble; Hueco Mundo in a similar state. She first came here fourteen years ago when she was rescuing Rukia. Charging head-first into battle, Ichigo succeeded in saving Rukia as well as unmasking a deadly plot. She had brought her friends with her, and she had made so many along the way._

_“Ichigo.” A voice broke her from her reverie. She looked over her shoulder to see Kisuke Urahara watching her with an ever-calculative gaze. “What are you thinking about?”_

_Ichigo turned back to face the wreckage. “Simpler times, Kisuke.” The retreating sunset her long orange hair ablaze, creating a stark contrast to the lackluster weariness in her eyes. Her physical appearance hadn’t changed much from when the war started when she was eighteen. She was twenty-nine now, but she had been in her early twenties when her physical body had deceased. She was still graced with womanly curves, as well as strong muscles born of years of uninterrupted combat(despite the fact she had lost some weight). The only considerable changes were her eyes(which now held tiredness not present in Ichigo’s youth), and the innumerable scars that littered her body from battle or torture. Ichigo’s hand unconsciously rose to the short scar cut vertically through her left eye, where an enemy had attempted at blinding her to no avail._

_He ambled his way to stand beside her, Benihime in one hand, his tattered hat in the other. They stood on the edge of Sokyoku Hill where a great event had once transpired._

_“Before shinigami?” he queried, guilt easily noticeable._

_Ichigo let out an exasperated sigh as her hand fell to her side. She was sensing a bit of déjà vu. “How many times do I have to tell you Kisuke? None of this was your fault.”_

_Despite her words, she watched his knuckles turn white as they clutched his zanpakuto in an icy, vice grip. The shopkeeper bowed his head before he said, “I forced you into this world. And I did it for personal gain.”_

_It was strange. Years ago, Ichigo never would’ve guessed she’d be hearing such forthright statements from such a tactful man. Over the last eleven years, it had become clear to Ichigo that war changed a person. Much like Ichigo, Urahara had retired his friendly shopkeeper facade a few years into the war. In his place stood a different man; a man who had killed many and had seen many killed. His ash-blonde hair was unkempt and his eyes bore heavy bags as a result of too many sleepless nights. Perhaps this different man had always been there, only rising to the surface in the face of great tragedy._

_“You know what I think?” Ichigo started, “I think that my fate was sealed the day I was born. I think I was inevitably tethered to your world and no amount of scheming was going to change that.”_

_“I’ve said this before,” Ichigo continued, “but I’ve always wanted the strength to protect the people I cared about. When Rukia was taken, you were the one to give me that strength. Again, when I lost my powers, it was you who pulled me out of despair and returned them to me. Even so” -Ichigo’s gaze grew somber-“I was unable to protect the people I cared for, but you cannot take responsibility for that.”_

_He flashed her a sad, knowing smile. “And neither can you.”_

_“I wish that were true,” Ichigo lamented._

_“Ichigo you-” MOO!!_

MOO!!

Ichigo’s eyes shot open. A dream? No, a memory. Ichigo sat up rapidly before clutching her sides. Her entire body ached with almost unbearable pain. She took in her surroundings: she sat at the bottom of a small crater in what appeared to be a barn with several...large pigs? _(moo???)_

“Where am I?” Ichigo whispered to herself. Sunlight was streaming down on her through a large hole in the roof. With much difficulty, Ichigo looked up. Her breath caught in her throat. 

The hole in the ceiling revealed a bright blue sky, untainted by smog, or dust. A lone tear slipped down her cheek without consent. How long had it been since she saw a sky like this one?

She was dragged out of her musing by an approaching spiritual presence. She struggled to rise to her feet only to fall to her knees, rasping for breath as her head pounded and her sight grew dim. The last thing she remembered was panicked voices and hands before she succumbed to unconsciousness.

OOO

“-alright?”

“Captain Unohan-”

“-ell from the sky?”

“-looks like you, sis.”

“Shhh!! She’s waking up!”

Ichigo stirred. Sensing multiple spiritual pressures, she groggily opened her eyes. She was not prepared for what she saw. Three sets of eyes watched her with caution and concern, but that wasn’t what caught her by surprise. No, it was two of the faces that she would recognize anywhere: Kukaku and Ganju. Her own family. They looked different...younger. She was struck with a thousand questions, but the mere fact that they were alive, in front of her was enough to shock her into silence. What was this? Some kind of sick joke?? Aizen was long dead, so it couldn’t be an illusion. 

She began to shake uncontrollably. Hands grabbed her own and her caramel brown eyes shot up to meet aqua green ones. “Hey, you’re okay, you’re safe,” the third, mystery man consoled. He was tall and lean with spiky black hair and a kind demeanor. There was something vaguely familiar about him, and yet Ichigo was positive she hadn’t met him before. 

“Kukaku, Ganju, why don’t you wait outside?” he suggested. Kukaku and Ganju exchanged wary looks before taking their leave. What was his relationship with them?

He gave her a gentle smile. “You’re probably wondering who we are. My name’s Kaien Shiba and those were my two younger siblings Kukaku and Ganju. When I found you, you were half-dead in our barn. You’ve been unconscious for nearly a week. We got Captain Unohana to tend to your wounds and-”

But at that point, Ichigo wasn’t listening. Her mind was positively spinning. A Shiba. Kaien Shiba. She’d recognize that name anywhere. This man was Rukia’s mentor and Ichigo's cousin. Her _dead_ cousin. What the hell was going on here? She was in the Soul Society that much she was sure, but it felt different. It felt off. Kaien mentioned Captain Unohana who was also dead last Ichigo checked. What was the last thing that she could remember? She went to see Urahara and Yoruichi in the world of the living and then what? After that, it was all fuzzy. Why couldn’t she remember?

“Remember what?” 

Ichigo met Kaien’s eyes again in surprise, not realizing she had voiced that last thought out loud. 

“I don’t...know,” Ichigo answered honestly. Her head was pounding from the strain of remembering what led her to be collapsed in her dead cousin’s barn. The orangette’s instincts were certain that it would give her a clue regarding her current situation. And her instincts were seldom wrong.

OOO

Kaien watched the girl as she stared blankly into space. He knew from the moment he laid eyes on her that she was no ordinary girl. To say he was surprised at her entrance would be an understatement. There was a bright light followed by a loud crash in the direction of the barn where they kept Bonnie and the other boars. When he arrived at the scene he was aghast to see a young girl(with the most vibrant orange hair)in the barn; out cold in a small crater where she must have impacted. Kaien quickly summoned the healers of the estate and later Captain Unohana to tend to the girl’s injuries. After giving the captain an obscure explanation of how he found her, Captain Unohana informed him that her injuries were dire and that she couldn’t say for certain if she would ever wake up. However, it would seem that their enigmatic guest wasn’t going to die easy. Kaien let out a heavy sigh. His duties as the lieutenant of the thirteenth squad required him to be away from the Shiba compound for extended amounts of time. Because of this, when Captain Ukitake told him to take a few days to visit his family he didn’t argue. Who would’ve guessed this is what he’d come home to?

Kaien cautiously put his hand on her shoulder, detecting the flinch beneath his touch. “Hey, could you tell us your name?”

Seas of amber revealed pain, loss, confusion, shock, fear, hope, despair. He felt like he was drowning in the sheer emotion of those eyes. This girl, whoever she is, has suffered greatly.

“Ichigo,” she answered meekly.

Kaien blinked a couple of times before responding, “Ichigo?”

She nodded solemnly. It wasn’t uncommon in the Rukongai for someone to only remember their name. Judging from the disorientation and skittishness, it wouldn’t be so farfetched to say she had just died. But then there was the pain in her eyes as if she was remembering something appalling. Some lingering trauma in her past, perhaps? That still didn’t explain the whole falling-from-the-sky-thing. Regardless, if she had just died she would be in her late teens or at most early twenties; practically an infant in comparison to himself. Kaien felt a wave of protective instincts rush over him like the tides of Nejibana. Perhaps it was his brotherly instincts, but he felt within his soul that this girl was someone he had to protect. 

“Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you Ichigo.”


	2. Chapter 2

_“You said you needed something?” It came out harsher than Ichigo intended. She didn’t like spending too much time in the World of the Living. It only reminded her of the friends, family, and life she had lost to the deranged ideals of a madman._

_“I’m sorry to call you here, Ichigo,” Kisuke apologized knowingly. Once, she found it irritating that the shopkeeper could read her thoughts and feelings with little effort. Now; however, she appreciated not having to explain her feelings. After this hell, Ichigo realized it was very likely he felt the exact same as she did._

_Ichigo dragged a hand through fiery orange locks. “It’s fine. What do you need?”_

_“I think I found a way to solve all our problems.”_

_“Ha,” Ichigo let out a bark of sardonic laughter. “Unless you can change the past our problems will remain so.” The universe in all her infinite wisdom had made Ichigo bitter with her cruelty. For that Ichigo’s heart held a spiteful grudge._

_“Follow me,” was all he said. Ichigo raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything as she followed Kisuke through the shop and down the ladder to the familiar training ground. A wave of nostalgia hit Ichigo all at once. She had so many memories of this place. It was here where she first obtained the powers of a shinigami in order to save Rukia, where she first met Old Man Zangetsu, and where she left for Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime. The secret training room in the Soul Society is where she first obtained Bankai, and Tenjiro’s training room in the Royal Palace is where she healed before gaining her true zanpakuto._

_Ichigo glanced around in confusion. “Where’s this solution to our problems? If you wanted to spar all you had to do was ask.”_

_He stood a few feet in front with his back to her. In the nine years of war and the two years that followed, Ichigo and Kisuke had grown very close. Besides Yoruichi, he was the only one Ichigo felt she could confide in. As a result of this closeness, Ichigo could tell when something was bothering him. She placed a hand on his shoulder, his back still turned. “What’s wrong, Kisuke?”_

_“I’m a selfish man,” he murmured just loud enough for her to hear._

_Ichigo huffed. “Yeah, no shit.”_

_“I’m about to do something unforgivable.”_

_“What do you me-”_

_He finally turned toward her and her breath caught by what she saw there. Tears. He was crying openly in front of her. Kisuke hadn’t cried like this in years. “I’m sending you back.”_

_“You’re not making sense, Kisuke. Back where?” She grabbed his hands trying to comfort the man but stopped when she felt something round in his-_

_“What’s in your hand??” she asked, anxiety building at the sorry state of her friend and her instincts raging within her soul. He clutched her hands in a death grip she could not shake. She winced as the mysterious round object pressed into her hand._

_His tears fell like streams of anguish and regret that Ichigo could not quell.“I’m sorry, Ichigo,” he whispered._

_“Kisuke-”_

_His figure disappeared in a brilliant explosion of light._

She sat up with a jolt, covered in a cold sweat, and breathing labored. A few frantic glances around the room and Ichigo remembered she was at the Shiba Estate. She had been talking to Kaien and then what? Did she pass out?  
Sunlight quietly slipped through the window, indicating it was morning. She let out a shaky breath. She must have slept through the whole night. During the war, Ichigo hardly got more than three to four hours of sleep a day. It was imperative to keep vigil in the event of an ambush. Even when they weren’t fighting, Ichigo failed to rest easy. Instead, she’d lie awake with a hurricane of thoughts, questions, and memories denying her the tranquility of sleep. 

Ichigo struggled to come to terms with what she had finally figured out. As she had suspected, the restored memory explained just about everything. Dead men walking. A Soul Society at peace as if the war hadn’t even happened. Because it hadn’t happened. Ichigo recalled what Kisuke said: “I’m sending you back.” Ichigo didn’t know how, but she was back in time. In the past. God, all the people that had died were alive. She could see them alive. They weren’t dead. They weren’t dead. They weren’t dead.

“Calm yourself, Ichigo.” 

Ichigo didn’t have to look up to know her quincy part was watching over her, concern discernible behind his yellow visor. 

“Yeah, yer practically shitting yerself over a bit of information, Queenie.” Zangetsu materialized by the window.

Zangetsu and Ossan. Her soul and the only constant in Ichigo’s life. While she had watched as friends, family, and comrades fell time and time again, her zanpakutos stood by her side through thick and thin. 

“A little information?” she said incredulously. “This changes everything.” 

“And yet, some things remain the same. What are you going to do, Ichigo?”

On the surface, it was a simple question. However, as was often the case with her quincy side, there was a much deeper connotation to it. Why did Urahara send her back? If Kaien was alive then she had to be at least fifty years in the past. Didn’t he know the pain Ichigo would feel at seeing her fallen friends and family? His voice echoed in her ears: “I’m sorry, Ichigo.”

Ichigo sighed. That man knew what he was doing by sending her here. He knew the suffering she would endure and he did it anyway. All for the hope that Ichigo could save their world from another tragic end. Dark forces would emerge from the shadows, just as they did in the past. One of her last living friends had put all his faith in her triumph over these forces. Failure simply wasn’t an option. 

“It seems like you’ve made up yer mind,” her twin noted with his signature shit-eating grin. No doubt, her hollow was looking forward to the fighting that they would inevitably be engaging in.

“The path ahead will not be an easy one,” the old man forewarned.

“It never is, Ossan.”

She only wished he had prepared her for this beforehand. A bitter smile graced Ichigo’s lips as she whispered to herself, “Leaving me in the dark; not telling me of your plans until it’s too late. Just like old times eh, Geta-Boushi?” 

Ichigo groaned. Might as well get up.

OOO

Kaien hadn’t slept much that night. His mind kept going back to a certain orange-haired girl.

Not long after telling her name, the poor girl had begun to hyperventilate, compelling Kaien to use a sleeping kido to prevent Ichigo from further hurting herself.

Because of this, Kaien had stayed up most of the night with a multitude of unanswered questions. It was conceivable that she had just died and recently entered the Soul Society; however, the nature of her arrival remained a complete mystery. He had never heard of anyone entering the Soul Society via atmosphere. There was also the enigma regarding her appearance. Besides the orange hair, Ichigo’s appearance closely resembled that of Kukaku’s. He was sure his siblings noticed as well, but Ichigo most certainly possessed Shiba features. Could she actually be a Shiba? Perhaps the child of a rogue Shiba that had separated from the main estate? It wasn’t impossible. Perhaps that was what made him so protective over a stranger with an even stranger past.

His thoughts were interrupted by a splash of orange in his peripheral. Ichigo was crouching over the koi pond that lay in the middle of the Shiba garden. Kaien was relieved to see that she was noticeably calmer than the previous evening.  
White bandages could be seen underneath the simple, midnight-blue yukata that Kukaku had provided. Kaien’s mind flashed back to when Unohana had tended to her wounds. He had caught sight of the myriad of recent and past scars that danced across Ichigo’s body in a vicious pattern of violence and cruelty. The captain had noted that while some were from battle, others were the work of torture. Neither of them had said it aloud, but Kaien was sure they had both thought of it: It’s as if she was- 

“Penny for your thoughts?” 

Kaien’s head shot up to meet Ichigo’s stare. “Huh?” he grunted intelligently; he had not noticed Ichigo’s approach until she stood before him.

Ichigo snorted in what must have been amusement. “You had a strange look on your face.” 

Kaien smiled sheepishly. “I was lost in thought.”

“What were you thinking about?”

“Well,” he started. Kaien wondered if now would be a good time to ask. She certainly appeared to be in a much better state than the evening before. “I’m not really sure how to ask this but”- he awkwardly scratched the back of his head- “you kinda fell from the sky.” He tried to read her face for a reaction but he was greeted with complete stoicism. “Any idea how that happened?”

Ichigo’s expression turned contemplative. “I’m not sure. I remember taking a nap against a tree in the Southern Forest. When I woke up I remember seeing a bright light and next thing I knew I was lying in your barn.”

Kaien nodded. It seemed like Ichigo was just as in the dark as he in regards to her bizarre entrance a week ago. He had a feeling she wasn’t telling him everything but decided not to push it. “You’re feeling better?”

“Yes, though I could go for some food.”

Kaien’s face lit up. “If you’re hungry that means you have spiritual power!” he exclaimed with the utmost enthusiasm. If she applied for the Shinigami Academy and became a part of the Gotei then he could keep a closer eye over her. Ichigo merely raised an eyebrow, clearly not understanding his excitement. 

“So, were you born in the Soul Society?” Kaien asked curiously.

Ichigo took a seat beside him, overlooking the garden. It was still quite early in the morning. Kaien enjoyed the serenity of watching the sunrise whilst everyone else was still asleep. He had a feeling Ichigo appreciated this moment of peace as well.

“I was. I’m from the 78th district: Inuzuri.”

Kaien’s eyes widened. Well, that debunked his theory that she had just died. And the 78th district...well it’s notorious for being impoverished and crime-infested. He wondered what Ichigo had to go through while living there.

“You’re not going to hold that against me, are you?” Ichigo joked knowingly. 

Kaien shot up to his feet and crossed his arms adamantly. “Of course not! That’s not the Shiba way!” he stated matter-of-factly.

Ichigo smiled and Kaien couldn’t help but notice how her features softened in the process, making her look younger. “I thought you might say something like that,” she said, and again, Kaien was reminded of his sister.

“Any family?”

The effect was instantaneous. The smile fell from her face only to be replaced by a sorrowful grimace. “Not anymore.”

Kaien’s heart ached for the unfortunate soul before him. Kaien decided then and there to help her any way he could. Ichigo was lonely and it was his duty to disperse the gloom that encased her like a second skin. He just hoped it would be enough. After all, there was no recovering what she had lost. 

OOO

Ichigo could see why Rukia held Kaien in such high regard. She hadn’t even known him for a day, but she could tell just by looking at him, that her cousin was a kind and genuine person. Needless to say, Ichigo felt immense guilt for lying to him. She didn’t know the Rukongai well, so she went with Inuzuri because it was where Rukia and Renji grew up. Rukia had told her many stories about her struggle to survive, the loss of her childhood friends, and her and Renji’s decision to become shinigami. The fact of the matter was, she couldn’t go around telling everyone she was a twenty-nine year-old time traveler. This was her path to walk alone, and she wouldn’t bring those she cared about into it. Even if it meant lying to everyone around her, including her own family. 

“I’m sorry for prying,” Kaien said in a somber tone.

“It’s fine,” Ichigo shrugged, remembering what they were talking about. Her family’s deaths weren’t something she wanted to go into detail on. “It was a long time ago.” 

It was both a truth and a lie. Her family’s deaths occurred within the first two years of the war. To most shinigami who have lifespans reaching hundreds or even thousands, a mere nine/ten years would be insignificant. To Ichigo; however, it felt like an eternity since she had last seen their faces. 

Kaien grabbed her hand and gave it a tug. “C’mon, let’s go get something to eat. Then I can show you around and introduce you to the rest of the Shibas.” 

Ichigo was in awe at the sheer size of the Shiba Estate and immediately compared it to Byakuya’s home, which she had visited many times(much to the noble man’s displeasure). It was comical to compare this grand and luxurious manor to the eccentric house with giant, human hand statues that Ichigo and her friends had seen.  
She was also surprised at the vast number of family members and servants within its walls. Before, Ichigo had only met Ganju, Kukaku, and the two guards after the Shiba Clan’s supposed fall from grace many years prior. This estate; however, was teeming with adults, children, elderly, and servants all with some relation or affiliation with the Shiba Clan. Most of the people she met greeted her with the standard Shiba enthusiasm. Others, she noticed, seemed skeptical of her and possibly a bit intimidated. Which, she supposed, was only natural considering she appeared out of nowhere. Kaien had informed her that only he, Ganju, and Kukaku knew the circumstances of her arrival. He said that he thought it would be wiser to simply say that she had been found injured near the estate rather than plummeting from the heavens(to which Ichigo wholeheartedly agreed). 

As Kaien dragged her across the manor like an over-energetic child, Ichigo began to ponder over her current situation and came to one conclusion: her cousin was truly baffling. She knew it was Shiba nature to be friendly, but why was he so welcoming to a complete stranger such as herself? An extremely suspicious stranger at that.

It was already mid-afternoon by the time the “Kaien Tour” -as Ichigo dubbed it- ended. They wound up back at the koi pond that Ichigo had admired that morning. Kaien told her that the koi were a gift from Ukitake, whom Ichigo remembered having a koi pond himself. He told her about his duties as a recently-promoted lieutenant as well as his fellow shinigami. Ichigo smiled sadly at the mention of Sentaro and Kiyone’s quarreling or of Kyoraku’s drinking habits.

Kaien’s head perked up and he looked over his shoulder before shouting, “Ganju! Come join us!” She turned to see a small figure emerging from behind a wall before timidly making his way toward them.

Now that Ichigo wasn’t having a panic attack, she was able to get a proper look at the past’s Ganju. While Ganju’s facial features were familiar, his physical body didn’t look any older than ten. It was a surprise Ichigo had even recognized him at all. 

“What are you looking at?” Mini Ganju demanded with an adorable scowl that Ichigo guessed was supposed to be threatening. 

“Ganju, be polite,” Kaien chastised but he ceased his lecture when he saw Ichigo place a hand on Ganju’s head.

Ichigo smirked. “Small.” 

Ganju blushed furiously before retreating a few steps. “Sh-Shut up! I’m only twenty-seven!”

Ichigo had to force herself not to react to that. She was only two years older than this bratty Ganju? Zangetsu’s gleeful laughter echoed in her mind.

Mini Ganju pointed an indignant finger at her indicating he wasn’t done. “And when I’m older Ima tower over everyone!”

Kaien chuckled. “Maybe someday, buddy.” He proceeded to ruffle Ganju’s hair, much to the boy’s dismay. 

Ganju pouted before rounding on his older brother. “So have you asked her yet?”

“Ganju, I thought I told you not to bring it up,” he groaned.

Ichigo tilted her head in question. “Asked me what, exactly?”

Kaien scratched his neck. “Well,” he started off hesitantly. “I was going to ask if you wanted to join the Shiba family.”

Ichigo’s eyes went wide in incredulity. “What?”

He pulled Ganju to his side, petting his head affectionately. “I know we can’t replace the family you had but”- Kaien looked her straight in the eye- “we can adopt you into ours.”

“B-But-” It was Ichigo’s turn to be flustered. 

Kaien raised his hands in acknowledgment. “I know this is sudden. And don’t feel pressured to answer right away.”

Ichigo shook her head unbelievingly and attempted to get her bearings. “Why? Why do you feel the need to help me so badly? You-” The rest of her thoughts died on her lips: You don’t even know me. You don’t know the things I’ve seen. The things I’ve done. 

“I can tell you’ve suffered. But regardless of the shadows of your past”- Kaien looked toward the late afternoon sun- “I want you to look for a light of a better future.”

His words pierced her very soul. Past. Future. How fucking ironic. Ichigo could’ve laughed, but her cousin seemed so genuine. Is this what she wanted? She had planned to walk this path alone, not wanting to get attached to the people she once cared for. But Kaien’s offer…

“Listen to your heart, Ichigo,” her Quincy part suggested.

“As corny as the bastard sounds, he’s right. Do what you want to do for once, Queenie.” 

What she wanted to do. When was the last time she did that? It wasn’t in Ichigo’s nature to be selfish; however… 

“Kaien I-”

“I’M HOOOOMEEE!! Where is everyone??” 

Ichigo’s heart stopped. 

OOO

Kaien was sure he was about to get an answer from Ichigo before he heard a familiar voice bellowing throughout the compound.

“I’M HOOOOMEEE!! Where is everyone??”

“Isshin-ji’s here!!” Ganju jumped up and down exuberantly before running off in the direction of the voice.

Kaien chuckled to himself. It had been far too long since the 10th Division Captain had come home. “Ichigo, why don’t I introduce you to-”

He stopped.

Ichigo was gone.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Just so you know, I don't know the exact times of when and where every Bleach character was during this time. The timeline is sorta accurate but obviously not perfect. Additionally, I don't explicitly state which war Ichigo was in because I've set this story up to be a kind of slow reveal as it progresses(so to build Ichigo's character). Obviously, if you're familiar with the manga then you probably already know; that's just how I've decided to write it. Hope you enjoy and leave a review before you go!

“I’m gonna need ya to put down your weapon and surrender quietly.” Shinji Hirako demanded with his zanpakuto still drawn in caution.

Ichigo simply raised her own sword in response, as if to say, ‘That’s never going to happen.’

Shinji sighed in vexation. “Yer not gonna make this easy for me, are ya?”

Ichigo said nothing. The silence between the two shinigami was deafening. The air around them was heavy in anticipation of battle. Ichigo was strong, but she knew from experience that the Fifth Division captain was no one to trifle with. She could not predict the outcome of this fight.

Ichigo’s grip on her sword tightened imperceptibly. How did she manage to get herself into this situation?

13 Hours Earlier

Kaien took a brave glance in the mirror. Dark shadows under his eyes accentuated the heavy fatigue that Kaien now carried. Two consecutive nights without sufficient sleep, and both instances revolved around Ichigo. Kaien had spent the entire night searching for the orange-haired girl. First, he had checked every corner of the estate before later forming a search party and inspecting the nearby districts and woods near the compound. All efforts were proven fruitless.   
Now, Kaien’s brief holiday had expired and he had to return to his lieutenant duties within the Seireitei. He had wanted to continue his search despite this fact, but his uncle discouraged such a thing.

_“You’re a lieutenant now thus you have responsibilities to uphold. Ukitake promoted you for a reason. Don’t let him down,” Isshin said in one of his rare serious moments._

_Kaien bit his lip. “But Isshin-ji-”_

_“If she wanted to be found, we would’ve found her. She might come back, she might not, but that’s her decision.” Isshin said resolutely._

_Kaien stared down at the floor dejectedly but perked up when his uncle put a hand on his shoulder. “From what you’ve told me, she sounds like a resilient woman. I’m sure she’ll be fine.”_

Kaien sighed as he packed up the rest of his belongings to take back to the Thirteenth Division Barracks. He knew Isshin-ji was right, but that didn’t stop him from worrying. Ichigo was strong, that much he was sure, but he also saw a pain in Ichigo’s eyes, one of weakness and vulnerability. Kaien’s instincts were certain that Ichigo was going to accept his invitation to join the Shiba family. Why did she run away? It simply didn’t make any sense.

“Nii-san are you sad?”

A small voice drew him away from the mirror in which he realized he’d been staring at for quite some time. The sight of his two siblings brought a smile to his face as he lifted Ganju into his arms. “Not anymore!” he exclaimed causing Ganju to giggle.

“Is it because of that girl?” Kukaku inquired from where she was leaning against the doorway. 

“By ‘that girl’, I assume you mean Ichigo?”

His sister huffed. “Uncle’s right, nii-san. You shouldn’t worry over things you can’t control.”

“There is some truth to that.” Kaien looked down at his younger brother, who was watching him with big, innocent eyes. “However, if there is something you truly care about you have to fight for it.”

Kaien saw Kukaku’s despondency and promptly brought his sister into a tight hug which she returned after a moment’s hesitation. After withdrawing from their embrace, he placed Ganju back down on the floor and ruffled his hair in a familiar manner. “After all, giving up is simply not the Shiba way!”

He walked out of the room with his luggage in hand before turning to face his siblings once more. 

“I’ll visit again as soon as I can.”

OOO

Ganju stared at his brother’s retreating form. He could try to hide it, but Ganju knew that Kaien-nii wasn’t his normal chipper self.

“Do you think he’ll really be alright?” Ganju asked his sister.

“Of course. He just needs time,” she answered with a distant expression on her face. “I’m going to get some food, you coming?”

Ganju shook his head. “No, I’ll eat later.”

Kukaku-nee nodded her head slowly before exiting the same way Kaien had. Kaien-nii wasn’t the only one acting strangely it seemed.

Ganju thought about the past week. Ichigo fell from the sky right on top of the barn that Kaien-nii had built himself. His brother kept vigil by her bedside for many days while she was sleeping. At first, Ganju thought her appearance was very frightening, what with all the scars on her arms, legs, and even over her eye. And yet…

Ganju walked over to the koi pond and stared at the bright orange fish within its waters. His brother had done so much for him. Kaien-nii cheered him up when he was sad, nursed him back to health when he was sick and made time to come visit them around his shinigami work. 

But what had he done for him in return? Ganju thought back to his brother’s words: _“...if there is something you truly care about you have to fight for it.”_

At that moment, Ganju knew what he had to do.

OOO

Ichigo wandered the dusty streets of the Rukongai in an attempt to clear her mind. She didn’t feel like she could go back to the Shiba Estate after she just left without a word. Her time with Kaien had been a nice escape from reality, but that’s all it was: an escape. By returning to this time, she would have to look the dead straight in the eyes. Live and interact with the corpses of her past.

And yet, when the first challenge presented itself, she ran. Like a coward. 

Suddenly Ichigo crouched down and clutched her head. “Damn it, not again,” she cursed, envisioning her father’s face.

_“Don’t cry, Ichigo. Promise me-”_

“No, no, NO!! SHUT UP!! SHUT UP!!!” She screamed as her memories threatened to overwhelm her. 

“Breath, Ichigo,” came the calming voice of the old man. Ichigo managed a few shaky breaths.

A few minutes passed before she stood once again and continued her trek. A few passerbys gave her odd looks. Fortunately, this area was for the most part deserted, with only a few questionable characters lurking about.

She glanced around and noticed how the further she walked, the worse her surroundings became. The buildings looked more dilapidated, and the citizens looked more slovenly. People stared at her as she passed by which wasn’t anything new to her. Even when she was a normal, powerless high school student, her orange hair earned her plenty of unwanted attention. Nevertheless, it was still inconvenient. 

Ichigo’s ears perked up at the sound of yelling and cheering. She followed the noise around a corner to see a semi-circle of cloaked people watching something. With Curiosity in the driver’s seat, Ichigo found herself pushing and squeezing through the mob of onlookers to get a better view.   
When she completed this task, she immediately recognized a familiar bald head glistening under the hot sun. Ichigo’s breath hitched. Ikkaku Madarame, Hozukimaru in hand, was engaging in battle with another swordsman. He looked different without his shinigami attire; now wearing a short grey yukata. Ichigo quickly spotted Yumichika standing a few feet in front of her, watching amongst the crowd. She was back in time before Ikkaku and Yumichika were even in the Gotei. Could it be Ichigo was back in time more than her previous estimate of around fifty years?   
The fight was nostalgic to watch. Ikkaku used the same unique style of fighting in which he utilized his zanpakuto as well as his sheath. Ichigo watched the clash and flurry of metal with intrigue. His opponent was not weak per se; however, she could see that he was most certainly on the defensive in this fight. Not long after this observation, did the crowd witness his opponent fall to the ground after a forceful blow to the stomach by Ikkaku’s sheath. He did not get back up. 

“C’mon! Is that all you got?” Ikkaku sneered. His opponent was knocked out cold thus he did not receive an answer.

Ichigo turned to see Yumichika clapping his hands with a satisfied smile. He looked about the same aside for longer hair and a flowery kimono to replace his shihakusho. “Another beautiful victory, Ikkaku.”

The bald man scowled before turning toward the crowd. “Well? Anyone else think they can defeat me?”

Silence greeted him. Ichigo wondered what the consequences of doing what she was about to do would be. Come what may, she desperately needed a distraction. So without thinking any more of ramifications she spoke up: “I do.”

The crowd parted to reveal Ichigo standing there with her arms crossed. “The name’s Ichigo.”

Ikkaku merely raised an eyebrow. “Ikkaku Madarame,” he replied. “You’re not from around here, are you?”

“I’m not.”

“Do you even have a sword?”

“I don’t.”

“What makes you think you can beat me?”

“I’m stronger.” Ichigo answered bluntly. The crowd broke out in ungracious jeers and laughter. Ikkaku narrowed his eyes. 

Ichigo bent down to pick up the katana of the unconscious man and gave it a few practice swings. It wasn’t Zangetsu, but she would make do. 

A scruffy dark-haired man that smelled distinctly of sake stepped out of the crowd. “How ‘bout this, little lady- If you lose to this man ‘ere, you gotta entertain me for the evening,” he said with a sadistic grin on his face; his companions laughing and slapping him on the back with approval. 

Instead of breaking his legs and making him beg for mercy(as she would’ve liked to have done), Ichigo smiled coldly and replied, “Very well. And if I win you have to give me that cloak you’re wearing.”

The scruffy man blinked, clearly not expecting that.

Ichigo walked to where she stood a good ten feet away from Ikkaku. She raised her sword.

“Let us begin.” 

OOO

Kaien watched with a dazed expression as the recruits practiced another Kido incantation. He had been desperately attempting to focus to no avail, his mind drifting off to other things. Kaien already had several seated officers ask him if he was well, and he hadn’t missed the concerned glances his captain had sent him throughout the day. 

“That’s enough for today. We’ll pick up where we left off tomorrow!”

A chorus of ‘yes, lieutenant’ resounded from the crowd before they dispersed. It was a bit early, but he was useless in his current state. He desperately wished he could shake this feeling of unease. Kaien thought back to Ichigo. He wondered where she was right now; if she was safe. 

“Kaien!” 

Kaien turned to see his captain walking over with Captain Kyoraku close to his side. The older man often visited the Thirteenth to drink or to simply avoid his lieutenant and paperwork.

Kyoraku tipped up his hat to reveal age-old brown eyes. “How have you been Kaien-kun? It feels like it’s been quite some time since we last saw each other.”

Kaien smiled amicably. “It has. I’m doing well though a bit tired. What about yourself? Are you avoiding Lisa again?”

A pout settled on the captain’s face. “You wound me, Kaien. You make it sound as though the only reason I’m here is to avoid work.” He wrapped an arm around Captain Ukitake who seemed far too used to these antics. “I’ll have you know that I am here to give Juu-chan some much-needed company.”

His captain shook his head fondly before asking, “Why are you tired, Kaien? Is everything alright at the Shiba Estate?”

“Well...” Kaien ran a hand through ebony locks. “Yes and no.”

The two captains exchanged a look before Captain Ukitake suggested, “Why don’t we go inside and drink some tea? After all, I believe we’re done for the day.”

Kaien accepted. It had been a long day. 

The three shinigami entered a quaint room with a single-window for the summer air to slip through. They settled around a low table; the two captains sat on one side, and Kaien on the other.

Kaien quietly sipped the tea that Captain Ukitake had prepared. It was hot and burned his tongue slightly, but it successfully woke Kaien from the trance-like-state that he had been trapped in so irrevocably.

Captain Kyoraku tentatively drank his tea, likely wishing it was sake. “So tell us, Kaien. What’s keeping you up at night?” 

“As long as you feel comfortable telling us, we’d be happy to listen,” the white-haired captain added.

Kaien weighed the pros and cons of telling them. While the circumstances surrounding Ichigo’s arrival were suspicious, he felt he could trust the two captains. Plus, he might feel better after talking about it.

So with a deep breath, he began. “The first day I arrived at the estate, we found a young girl heavily injured just outside the compound…” Kaien told them of her awakening after a week of unconsciousness as well as her confusion regarding how she had ended up in such a state. He recounted the day he spent with her before her sudden disappearance and his futile attempts at finding her. He decided to leave out how she fell from the sky. It didn’t seem like information he should be sharing.

“This Ichigo girl...you said she’s from Hanging Dog, correct? Did you check there?” Kyoraku questioned.

Kaien shook his head solemnly. “I was going to, but Isshin-ji reminded me I needed to return to my post. I want to keep looking for her but” -Kaien stared into his now-empty teacup- “if she doesn’t want to be found then there’d be no point.”

“You did everything you could to help her, Kaien,” Ukitake said. To which Kyoraku nodded in agreement.

“He’s right. And fate is a funny thing; you might just run into her again.”

Kaien nodded. He truly hoped that he would.

With that weight off his shoulders, Kaien enjoyed engaging in conversation with the two older men. They discussed the Gotei, and the rapid changes it was experiencing. More specifically, the recent turnover of captains. This included the defeat and replacement of the Eleventh Squad captain, as well as the newly appointed captain of the Twelfth and his unorthodox transformation of the division.

“His Research and Development Institute is quite remarkable, wouldn’t you say Shunsui?” Ukitake remarked.

“Indeed,” the other man replied. “It’s quite convenient for us to know when and where hollows are bound to appear.”

Kaien’s brow furrowed in confusion. “How exactly does that work?”

The 8th Division captain scratched his chin in cogitation. “He informed me that their Communication Research Section is responsible for monitoring transmissions between the three planes: the Soul Society, Hueco Mundo, and the Human World.”

“By ‘transmissions’, do you mean like a Senkaimon?” Kaien inquired.

Kyoraku nodded. “Both Senkaimon and Garganta. For instance, just today they detected several Kumon* opening somewhere within the Southern Forest. Squads 5 and 9 were dispatched to handle the threat.” 

Kaien’s eyes went wide. “Kumon??” Gillian were in the Soul Society? And several of them by the sound of it. The Southern Forest...that isn’t too far from Inuzuri. What if Ichigo had gone there?

His growing anxiety was disrupted by the sound of shunpo. The three individuals looked up to see a masked man on one knee with the Shiba family crest on his sleeve. A courier of the Shiba Clan? They rarely used them save for special occasions or emergencies. Kaien felt a pit in his stomach.

“Shiba-sama! I come bearing urgent news!”

… 

The three shinigami waited for said urgent news to be spoken. After a few moments of awkward silence, Kaien blurted out, “Well, what is it?!” His patience was thinning under a festering feeling of impending doom.

“Yes, Shiba-sama! Your younger brother, Ganju-sama has left the estate, sir! We have begun a search for the boy but eyewitness reports suggest he traveled into the South Rukon. He left this note, sir!”

Kaien snatched the note from the messenger who made a hasty retreat in a blur of shunpo. He unfolded the parchment and immediately recognized the penmanship as his brother’s:

_Going to find Ichigo. Be back soon._

_-Ganju_

Shit.


	4. Chapter 4

Ganju didn’t know how long he had been roaming the Rukongai, but the further he walked, the more nervous he became. Ganju knew very well that the higher the district number, the more unsafe it was. He wasn’t positive about which district he was in, but his surroundings spoke volumes of unperceived danger; it was likely he was in a higher district.

He had hoped that he wouldn’t have to travel this far, but when Ganju asked around, the man whom he’d spoken to had seemed confident he had seen Ichigo.

_“As a matter of fact, I have seen such a person. I remember her because she possessed the most remarkable orange hair. I think she was heading further south, toward the outer districts. You’re not thinking of going there on your own are ya?”_

Yes. Yes, he was.

Haggard figures wandered the streets and stopped to stare at him as he passed. Ganju watched as a group of men stumbled out of what looked like a bar, laughing and swaying buoyantly. He had never been allowed into the Rukongai alone, and even when he was with Kukaku-nee or a Shiba attendant they had never dared to venture this far. He was going to get an earful when he returned.

Ganju felt a chill run down his spine. He turned to see a group of predative-looking men huddled in a dark alleyway. What immediately caught his eye were the black shihakusho they wore with swords strapped to their sides. _Shinigami??_ What could they possibly be doing way out here? Though it was under their jurisdiction, the Shinigami hardly monitored the Rukongai especially the outer districts; preferring to remain in the safety and lavishness of the Seireitei. It was a sad reality, but Kaien-nii had promised that if he ever rose to an influential position in the Gotei he would try to better the conditions of the Rukon. 

The Shinigami spoke quietly to themselves and began to eye him like a pack of wolves might watch a deer. Ganju ripped his eyes away and considerably hastened his walking. He had stared long enough.

In this moment, Ganju fiercely wished for the comforts of home. He didn’t even know if Ichigo had gone this way, and the Rukongai was massive. There were a whopping 320 districts in total; thus, the chances of him actually finding Ichigo were improbable. Was this a mistake? Was Ichigo close? Or was he simply grasping at straws? Should he just turn back?

_“After all, giving up is simply not the Shiba way!”_

He froze. Kaien-nii’s words. He attempted to steady his breathing.

That’s right. Ganju had come here for a reason, and he wasn’t leaving until he found what he was looking for. Ganju took a nervous glance over his shoulder. Besides, he’d already reached the point of no return.

With newfound determination burning within his soul, Ganju prepared to resume his trek only to stop dead in his tracks: Three of the wolfish shinigami that were in the alleyway now stood directly in front of him. When did they manage to loop around him?

The man in the middle- a tall, lanky man with messy black hair- stepped forward. Ganju got the impression he was their leader. “Hey there, boy. Those are some nice clothes ya got there.”

Now he was both nervous and confused. His clothes? Ganju had no idea where this conversation was headed. His instincts screamed danger, but he was frozen in place.

“And if I’m not mistaken, there’s a noble clan symbol on it.” Ganju looked down to see the Collapsing Whirlpool of Crashing Heaven(his family’s symbol) on the leg of his hakama. 

Oops.

In retrospect, he probably should’ve changed clothes before entering the Rukon. 

“Yer a far way from home, noble brat. I bet yer shitty privileged family would pay generously for the return of one of their own, even if yer in pieces, what do you think boys?”

His lackeys snickered unscrupulously in agreement. With his stubborn feet finally willing to move, Ganju turned to make a break in the opposite direction only to see two more men standing a few yards away with their arms crossed. He got the message loud and clear: _You’re not going anywhere._

“What’s the rush, son?” said the leader. The men were slowly closing in on him. “We just wanna help you get home.”

What should he do? He was clearly in dreadful danger here. Now profusely sweating, Ganju took a surreptitious glance out of the corner of his eye to spot a narrow alleyway. If he caught them by surprise, he might be able to buy some time and get help. Or perhaps he could escape them in the labyrinth of the Rukon. 

Ganju’s breath was coming out in short panicked gasps. His heart beat erratically within his chest as the men became within arms reach of him. It was now or never.

Without any time to lose, Ganju veered a sharp left and darted into the alley as fast as his feet could carry him. He heard a cacophony of curses and footsteps behind him. He knew they were bound to give chase. Ganju looked over his shoulder to see two of the men chasing after him. Where were the others? Were they trying to cut him off again? 

He gritted his teeth. One vs five were not odds he was willing to take. He had to even the scales a bit…

That’s it!

Ganju reached into his haori to pull out a small, orange ball: The Shiba Tear Gas Grenade! Thank god he had the insight to bring one. He pulled the pin and flung it at his two pursuers. 

There came a resounding BOOM followed by anguished cries of “MY EYES!!” Evidently, the grenade had fulfilled its purpose.

Ganju exited the alley and frantically checked his surroundings. “There he is!!” 

Two men on his left.

“Grab em’!!”

One on his right.

A dead-end up ahead.

Right it was then.

Adrenaline fueling his movements, Ganju bent down to pick up a peach-sized rock as he sprinted straight for the one man. “Please let this work,” he whispered to himself.

With all the strength he could muster, Ganju hurled the rock at the man’s stomach, praying that his aim was true. Unfortunately for the man, his projectile struck a bit lower. 

“AGHH!!” The man fell to the earth, his face contorted in agony. Ganju took full advantage of his incapacitated state to whisk past him. 

It occurred suddenly to Ganju: Why were they not using shunpo? His brother had described the various forms of combat that shinigami utilized; including flash step. They’d easily be able to catch him with such an ability. Unfortunately, Ganju had no time to ponder it.

“You brat!” Two men were still in pursuit. 

Ganju was out of grenades, and he knew he could not outrun them forever. A flash of green caught his attention; he could see a dense forest just up ahead. Ganju adjusted his course accordingly. Hopefully, he could lose them in the trees.

He dashed into the woods and weaved through the trees in what Ganju prayed was an untraceable pattern. 

This time; however, his prayers were not answered.

Something caught on Ganju’s ankle causing him to tumble to the ground. He looked up to see two men looming over him. He attempted to stand but was instantly greeted with a backhand to the face that knocked him right back down. Black dots danced across his vision. 

“Hold em’ down, Sota.”

Ganju felt his arms being pinned to the ground.

“Nice try, little brat. Yer gonna pay for what you did to my brothers.”

He pulled his zanpakuto out of his sheath. Ganju’s eyes filled with fear. He couldn’t move. Is this how he would die? Impaled by some corrupt shinigami in the middle of nowhere? He still had so much to do!! He had to find Ichigo; he had to see his brother and sister again!! 

Ganju attempted to break free, but the man called Sota had him in a secure grip he could not shake. Tears of rage streamed down his face. He was completely and utterly at the mercy of the two men. 

The setting sun glared off the sword raised high overhead. The young boy squinted his eyes shut. _I’m sorry, nii-san._

Ganju waited for the end to come.

OOO

Ichigo tried her best not to roll her eyes as Ikkaku took another broad swing only to be met with air as Ichigo effortlessly sidestepped his sword. This had been going on for quite some time. Ikkaku would attack, Ichigo would evade. His technique was good and there was plenty of strength behind his attacks, but he was nowhere near the level he had been when they had fought during the ryoka invasion. During this match, Ichigo would shout out criticism and suggestions(only further inciting the bald man’s ire).

“You’re too predictable. Add some diversity to your attacks!”

“RAAAAAA!!” Another evaded attack left him horribly off-balanced. Ikkaku fell comically, face-first into the dirt, eliciting another outbreak of laughter from the crowd. She noticed Yumichika shaking his head dismally.

“Having a little trouble with the lady, Ikkaku?” came the taunt of one spectator.

“Better focus! At this rate, I’ll never get laid!” the scruffy man remarked. They erupted again in raucous laughter. This time Ichigo did roll her eyes.

A vein popped out of Ikkaku’s head. “SHUDAP, WILL YA?! And YOU!!” he exclaimed and pointed his sword at her. “I DON’T WANT YOUR INSTRUCTION!! I WANT A FIGHT, DAMMIT!!”

As amusing as his outburst was, she had to ask: “Don’t you want to get better?”

Her opponent paused in contemplation, momentarily forgetting his frustration. “Of course I do! There is a man...I must surpass. I decided I would get stronger, so I can get the chance to fight him again!” When he spoke, he did so with an ardent fire in his eyes.

Now it was Ichigo in deep thought. Many sought power. Some sought it to satiate their greed; some, for their own ambition; some for the welfare of others. Ikkaku was recklessly putting himself in harm’s way in search of this power. Just as Ichigo had.

“I understand,” she said.

“You do?” Ikkaku huffed. “Well, then you know I’m not getting better by you just dodging my attacks! Fight me with your sword!!"

Well, he asked for it. 

As Ikkaku attacked again, with one arm, Ichigo met Ikkaku’s sword with her own. Ikkaku glared in determination. He swung his sheath at her head only for her to catch it with her other hand, much to her opponent's surprise. Taking full advantage of Ikkaku’s bewilderment, Ichigo expertly drove a knee right to his stomach. The bald man gasped for breath before he collapsed to the ground in an unconscious heap; ironically in the same fashion as his previous opponent. Well, that was anticlimactic.

Her devotees exploded in cheers.

“Yeah, you showed him, girl!”

“Knocked him right off his feet, ya did!”

Ichigo sighed. From wars to street skirmishes. It was almost reminiscent of her human days. She truly had gone back in time.

“I believe payment is in order.”

Ichigo turned to see the scruffy man who’d made a pass at her. He held out the cloak that Ichigo had requested before the fight with a remorseful smile. “Sorry ‘bout the disrespect earlier. Ya see I spot a pretty lady, and my mind goes blank.” 

“Your apology is accepted,” she answered graciously. “And I don’t need your cloak, it’s fine.” She had bet on the shawl because it would allow her to walk freely without being a traveling spectacle. Nevertheless, she didn’t want to take some of (what was likely) the only clothes he had.

But the scruffy man was adamant. “No ‘mam, it is not fine. You earned this, so you gotta take it.”

Ichigo was about to object, but the look in the man’s eyes said he wasn’t taking no for an answer. She sighed. “Very well then.” 

She took the black cloth and felt the coarse fabric under her fingertips. It looked as though it had been to hell and back, much like herself. She roughly threw it on whilst trying to ignore the fetid scent of alcohol on it. 

“The name’s Takeshi. If yer ever around these parts again, I reckon we’ll run into each other. I hope to see your pretty face again, Ichigo,” he said with a wink. And just like that, Takeshi and the rest of the crowd receded back into the dusty streets of the Rukon. 

“Unbelievable. Ugly and indecent until the very end.”

Ichigo turned to see Yumichika standing there with his arm clasped around Ikkaku’s unconscious form, draped over his back in a fireman’s carry.

“My name is Yumichika Ayasegawa. Ikkaku and I have been traveling around the Rukongai looking for strong opponents for him to fight. While that first brute was all talk; you, however…”

He gave her an appraising look. “You are clearly a capable fighter. Where are you from?”

“Inuzuri,” she answered.

“I see.”

If she recalled, both Ikkaku and Yumichika were from Zaraki, the 80th district in North Rukon. You have to be a fighter in order to survive the brutal conditions of the outer districts. They knew this better than anyone.

“I assume that’s where you learned how to fight.”

Not exactly, but that’s the story she’s sticking with.

“Well, I was very impressed,” he continued. “Though he may not have seemed like it to you, Ikkaku is an exceptionally skilled swordsman. In the many years I have traveled with him, you are only his second loss.”

Now he had her attention. “Second loss, you say?”

He nodded. “The first was to a man called Kenpachi of Zaraki.”

Ichigo’s eyes widened. There was a name she hadn’t heard in a long time.

“We heard a rumor that he recently defeated the 11th captain of the Gotei. So we’ve decided to take the entrance exam for the Shinigami Academy,” Yumichika explained.

Ikkaku had once told her the story of his defeat by Kenpachi’s sword. After losing, he demanded that Zaraki kill him, only to be told to consider himself lucky that he got to fight another day. 

“Is there a reason you’re telling me this?” Ichigo asked, suspiciously.

Yumichika smiled and used his free hand to flick back his hair flamboyantly. “I was just thinking about how Ikkaku would want to fight you again. Perhaps you could-”

“There he is!!” 

He was interrupted by nearby voices.

“Grab ‘em!”

What was that about?

Ichigo and Yumichika spotted a young boy darting out into the street with two shinigami chasing closely behind him. Wait, that boy looked like-

“Preying on children now? Their depravity knows no bounds. Don’t they-”

But Ichigo was gone. She threw the hood of her cloak over her head and ran, sword in hand, after the two men. That boy- Ichigo was sure of it- was Ganju. What the hell was he doing way out here?

She sprinted out into the street and inspected her surroundings. Where’d they go? She knew they couldn’t have gotten far. 

Her ears picked up a voice again. “-what you did to my brothers.”

The forest.

She shunpoed through the trees and into a clearance to see Ganju in a compromising position. One of the men was holding him down while the other was preparing to stab Ganju with his zanpakuto. Ichigo was getting wicked deja vu.

_“Watch closely, first protector. Watch as I destroy all that you care for.”_ He raised his sword high overhead. Ichigo could only watch as the blade plunged deep into her father’s heart. Blood spilled from his lips as he cried out in utter agony. 

Ichigo clutched her head with one hand. “...stop. Not again,” she whispered as her memories continued their torment. How many people had she seen died? How many more will she be forced to lay witness?

The blade began its descent.

_“Watch closely-”_

She shunpoed directly behind the man with the sword-

_“Watch as I destroy all that you care for.”_

-and in one clean motion sliced off his head. Blood sprayed haphazardly in all directions.

Before the remaining man could even process what happened, she ruthlessly drove her blade through his chest. 

“Ack!” The man retched up blood onto a trembling Ganju whom she had briefly forgotten about. 

She removed the sword from her victim. As the body slumped to the ground, she could see it slowly turning to reishi. 

Ganju stared at her with a purely aghast expression. “Wh-Who-?” he stammered, struggling to form words. He was likely wondering if she would be his savior or his executioner. It occurred to Ichigo that with the hooded cloak and the bloody sword she likely resembled the grim reaper. She had become a palpable personification of death.

Mini Ganju stood shakily as he carefully watched her hooded form. Ichigo wished she could alleviate a little of the boy’s anxiety; alas, she could not speak lest her identity be exposed. He appraised her for a few moments as if determining if she would try to take his life as well. He must have come to the conclusion that she had no intention of doing so because he turned his back on her.

“...thank you,” he muttered, just audible enough to reach Ichigo’s ears. Ganju then took off back toward town and hopefully the Shiba Estate. Ichigo smiled under her hood. She should probably follow him to make sure he makes it back.

She glanced down at the stolen sword which was soaked in crimson. God, what had come over her? It was as if, for a brief moment, distinction between her memories and reality had blurred to obscurity. Was she dangerous? Was she-

Was she a monster?

A monster only capable of death and devastation.

**“Yer bein’ stupid again, Queenie,”** her hollow chided. **“You fight and kill to protect people. Remember why we’re here.”**

Her zanpakuto’s words echoed in her head. He was correct in his statement. She did not enjoy killing, despite the sheer amount of times she had partaken in it. But still-

_Wroooop_

Ichigo was instantly drawn from her dark thoughts. She knew that sound well.

She looked up to see several large garganta open above her. Colossal white faces peeked out of the void. _Gillian??_ She could sense many more garganta open within the vicinity of the forest. 

Fucking great. Could her luck get any worse?

Summoning Zangetsu would be flashy. She was trying to stay under the radar, and a Rukongai citizen with dual zanpakuto and substantial spiritual pressure would certainly put a target on her back. 

The Menos let out a mighty roar as they fully emerged from the void. Ichigo sighed. It seemed running was her only viable option.

But her escape was delayed by numerous approaching spiritual pressures. Ichigo could see several shinigami zipping overhead. One white and yellow blur, in particular, caught her attention. It whizzed through the sky as it laid waste to the nearby hollows with deadly dexterity. The Menos barely had enough time to cry out before they gradually dissipated into black dust.

The blur must have noticed her because it shunpoed opposite the clearance from her. Ichigo’s feet refused to budge while her eyes were fixed on her old friend and fellow vizard: Shinji Hirako.

The most noticeable change was his hair which had changed from a dorky bob to long blond strands that waterfalled down his back. Additionally, when he looked at her, his eyes no longer held it’s playful familiarity. In its place was cautious scrutiny.

She could see the gears turning as he assessed the situation before him. The captain’s shrewd eyes darted from the shinigami bodies dissolving into reishi to her bloody sword then back to Ichigo. The cautious scrutiny shifted into pure hostility.

Apparently, her luck _could_ get worse.

OOO

Squads Five and Nine were instructed to form a small task force to deal with the horde of Menos that were detected in the Southern Forest. Shinji expected to find a multitude of hollows to neutralize. What he did not expect to find was some hooded assailant butchering his squad. Or what he assumed was his squad. The bodies had already mostly turned to reishi, thus he was unable to get a proper look, but Kensei had taken his squad to the opposite side of the forest, so there was not much room for doubt. Regardless of the particulars, the atrocity that this person committed could not be overlooked. 

“I’m gonna need ya to put down your weapon and surrender quietly,” he demanded with Sakanade at the ready.

The capistrated figure did not seem impressed and boldly raised his/her own sword in challenge. 

Shinji sighed. “Yer not gonna make this easy for me, are ya?”

He supposed it was not too unexpected. Seeing as this individual had already slaughtered two seated officers, it was feasible they thought: I’ve killed two; what’s one more shinigami? Unfortunately for this shady character, he was no ordinary shinigami.

He flared his reiatsu threateningly. Kido was not his forte, but he would quickly incapacitate his opponent and then utilize a binding kido to take them into custody. After all, he had some questions that needed to be answered.

But the hooded assailant did not cower under his display of strength, much to his bafflement. Even seated officers would have difficulty withstanding this level of spiritual pressure, and he could not feel hardly any spiritual pressure from this individual. Who was this person? An ex-shinigami? Someone with a personal vendetta against the Gotei?

Only one way to find out. 

Shinji crossed the distance between them in one flit of shunpo. With his opponent’s back to him, he would be able to deliver a serious blow. Sakanade’s beautiful blade glided through the air. 

But stopped short of her target.

A sharp clang rang in the ears of the combatants.

Once again, this enigma had surprised him. They had turned last second to meet his katana with their own. Only an experienced fighter would be capable of seeing through his shunpo. 

Shinji continued his assault with a flurry of calculated attacks. His opponent responded naturally to the change of pace, intercepting each of his jabs with deft movements of their sword.

The hooded person surged forward suddenly, and with great power, sent Shinji sliding back a good twenty feet. He observed the stance of his opponent. An experienced fighter indeed. It would be imprudence to underestimate his adversary any longer.

The captain raised his sword. “Collapse-”

The figure appeared right in front of him with a speed he could hardly register, much less react to. The person’s foot shot forward in what appeared to be a roundhouse kick. He gasped for breath as it made direct contact with his solar plexus and sent him flying backward, smashing into what must have been a dozen trees before hitting a hard surface and crumpling to the ground.

He laid there for a moment as he attempted to recollect his bearings. 

“Uhg,” Shinji groaned. He clutched his sides as he slowly sat up against the tree he must have hit against. A few ribs were broken and he could feel a deep cut across his cheek. There was a trail of demolition where he had bulldozed through the thicket. With great effort, he stood up and collected Sakanade, who laid a few feet from where he landed.

Ignoring the pain, Shinji shunpoed through the wreckage back to the clearing. As he suspected, the hooded figure had completely vanished.

“Son of a-”

“Captain!”

He turned to see his second in command shunpoing toward him.

“Aizen,” Shinji greeted with bland enthusiasm. “How nice of you to show up.”

The brunette was unfazed by his obvious annoyance. “I apologize, Captain. There were more Gillian than originally suspected. We had just finished eliminating them when we felt your spiritual pressure spike.”

Aizen’s zanpakuto was drawn to support his story, and yet he barely looked as though he worked up a sweat. Shinji narrowed his eyes but didn’t push the issue. 

“Did you encounter an obstacle?” Aizen asked, punctiliously choosing his words as he always did. Shinji had grown accustomed to his flowery speech and his ever-persisting smile, but he could not acclimate to the foreboding chill he felt around his lieutenant.

“Possibly,” he answered cryptically. 

Aizen sheathed his zanpakuto. “Are you going to elaborate, Captain?”

The captain rolled his eyes in annoyance. “Eventually. For now, let’s rendezvous with the Ninth Division. Go and gather the rest of the squad.”

“Hai.” He disappeared in a flash.

The captain cursed under his breath. Beaten by some nobody in the middle of the forest. If Hiyori got wind of this he’d never hear the end of it. 

Shinji sighed. He would have to explain this mess to Yamamoto at the next captain's meeting. He knew nothing of this enigma. Only that they were powerful, and possibly an enemy of the Gotei. 

Shinji looked up at the luminous moon then the darkened forest. Night had awakened and many unknowns could hide within her obscurity. 

Something told him that this wouldn’t be the last he saw of the hooded killer.


	5. Chapter 5

“Next!”

The shoji door slid open to reveal a young girl leaving the room with her head down, a dejected expression on her face. Evidently, it did not go as she had hoped. The burly man in front of Ichigo entered the mysterious room and closed the door behind him. Before it shut, she caught a glimpse of a small, windowless room with a singular table at one end.

It had been three days since she left- no _fled_ the Shiba Estate. Aside from her spar with Ikkaku and her run-in with Shinji, the past couple days had been decidedly humdrum, with her stealing a little food here and there whilst gradually traveling back toward the Seireitei.  
Now, she was in the process of taking the entrance exam to the Shinigami Academy. She had been standing in line with the other applicants as she waited to be tested. After one dreadfully long hour, it seemed as though she was next.

Ichigo’s near chance meeting with her father and her short interaction with Shinji made it clear that this responsibility would be beyond agonizing. The pain of seeing dead loved ones once again was enough to drive any man mad. 

Regardless, Ichigo had already promised herself that she would prevent another cataclysmic and dismal future. She had not yet figured out how exactly she would do so. There was still much she did not know about her current time period, how soon her “problems” would appear, and how she should go about handling said problems. To rectify this, she needed to infiltrate the Seireitei (with something a bit more subtle than Kukaku’s Flower Crane Cannon) and get a better grasp of her situation. Joining the Gotei was a no-brainer. Ichigo was a mystery- a stranger to all her past companions, making it easy for her to slip into the ranks as a Shinigami whilst insidiously devising plans. 

**“Just don’t fuck this up, Queenie. Ya have a tendency to fuck shit up.”**

Per usual, her zanpakuto offered nothing but support and helpful advice. She mentally envisioned a rude gesture.

 _“The hollow’s words hold some truth, Ichigo. Danger tends to follow you,”_ Ossan added.

**“Yeah, yer like a fuckin’ black cat, bringin’ trouble wherever ya go.”**

_I think Yoruichi would be offended,_ Ichigo voiced inside her head.

Ichigo had put her life at stake countless times from the moment she entered the world of the dead, and she did so willingly. It was how she became as powerful as she was now. So it was less _danger following her_ and more _her following danger_. Albeit, her recent encounter with Shinji was…untimely, to say the least.

Ichigo reflected on her clash with Shinji. She had reacted instinctively to the familiar chant of his release(Sakanade’s shikai was not something she felt like dealing with). Years of warfare taught you a thing or two about battle tactics. One of them was this: you only get one shot at the element of surprise. Had the captain not had his guard down, Ichigo doubted she would have been able to strike such a blow as she did. Not to say that there was no chance of her victory, merely that she would not be so lucky should they fight again. 

Though hopefully, they would not be fighting any time soon. 

Ichigo knew the Seireitei very well. Their customs, traditions, structure- but most importantly their laws(as she should, seeing as she had broken quite a few of them). She did attack a captain, and she did so under a disguise which makes her actions all the more damning. Yamamoto did not know who the “person in the hood” was and he despised not knowing things. Undoubtedly, they would be looking for her.

“Next!” came the muffled voice she had very recently become familiar with. The man who entered before her did not reemerge. Ichigo supposed that meant he passed. 

She closed the shoji door behind her as she entered the small windowless room. On the far side of the room, was a long, rectangular table with a singular man seated behind it, his head downcast, and the pen in his hand hard at work. His appearance was that of a sturdy middle-aged man with broad shoulders and a thick neck. He had a bald head and tan skin. Ichigo took note that his head vaguely resembled a potato(though she thought it wise not to voice this observation). 

Without even looking up he asked: “Name?” 

Ichigo noticed his tone sounded somewhat irritable. She figured it must be taxing to undertake every single applicant’s test by oneself.

“Ichigo,” she answered promptly.

He spoke as he continued to write. “My name is Gengoro Onabara, and I’m an instructor at the Spiritual Arts Academy. In order to be admitted, you must pass the entrance exam which consists of two parts.” 

Potato Head finally put down his pen before looking up to meet Ichigo’s gaze. Small black eyes scrutinized her behind wide-framed glasses.

“First, you must demonstrate to me that you possess some reiatsu. Next, you will go complete the written exam. If you pass both tests then you will be granted entry into the academy. Based on your results, you will be placed in the class best suited for your skill level.”

Ichigo said nothing. She would like to graduate from the academy as quickly as possible; however, her plans for the future depended on the concealment of her past. She needed to graduate whilst not arousing any suspicion or unwanted attention. Ichigo knew she would have to restrain her spiritual power, her knowledge of shinigami, and her fighting ability. After more than nine years of constant fighting, that wall of growing hindrances seemed insurmountable. She subconsciously twirled an orange strand of hair. She was simply not born to blend in.

“Now then,” Onabara began. “I want you to try to form a ball of spiritual energy in your palm. It doesn’t have to be perfect since it’s likely your first time. Focus your energy on…”

He continued his lengthy explanation of how to concentrate her spiritual power, but Ichigo mostly tuned him out. When she had first become a shinigami her control over her spiritual pressure was abysmal. After years of war and training, she had her reiatsu under such tight discipline that the enemy could rarely sense her before she attacked. For instance, right now, Potato Head likely thought she had the spiritual pressure of an average Rukongai citizen.

“-clear?”

Ichigo blinked. She had momentarily forgotten he was speaking. “What?”

The teacher’s eye twitched angrily. “I said: _Is that clear?”_ He did not intend to explain it a second time.

“Crystal,” she answered coolly. 

“Very well then. Let’s see it.”

Ichigo held out one hand in front of her. This task was similar to how one produced kido. After subduing her monstrous amount of spiritual power, learning Kido from Hachi and Tessai was fairly simple. Her goal now was to exhibit advanced-class-level skills without making a spectacle. She would have to be cautious not to overpower it.

A tiny white ball of light flickered into existence above her hand. Gradually, the ball of light grew in size until it was about the size of a grapefruit. The light thrummed with power as its scintillating glow illuminated the room. Ichigo focussed on repressing her reiatsu just as Kisuke had taught her. The light fluctuated once more before slowly dying out into nothingness. 

She turned her attention back to the instructor to gauge his reaction. His eyes were wide and his jaw was slightly slack in awe.

Well, shit. Did she put too much power into it?

“Ahem.” Onabara quickly got over his stupor and cleared his throat in what must have been an attempt to recollect himself. “Very impressive. You have passed the first stage. You may proceed through the door behind me.”

As Ichigo opened the door to her next trial she could see out of the corner of her eye Onabara furiously scribbling on his paper with a newfound vigor that made Ichigo uneasy. 

She walked out the door nevertheless.

OOO

A cane hit against the floor several times, effectively silencing any conversation that may have been taking place. 

“This meeting will now come to order!” As a powerful voice flooded the halls, Shinji and ten of his fellow captains shifted to stand at their designated positions. The Eleventh Kenpachi had neglected to attend, and Ukitake was out sick.

“The first item on the agenda,” the Head Captain began. “I was informed an unknown entity was encountered during the dispatch mission two nights ago. Captain Hirako, your report.”

“Right.” Shinji stepped forward as he prepared to recount the events that had haunted his mind since their happening. 

“Two nights ago, as you know, Squads Five and Nine were sent to handle the outbreak of hollows in the Southern Forest. After we dealt with the menos, I ran into a hooded person who had appeared to have just slaughtered two seated officers.”

The present captains stilled. If he didn’t have their attention before he most certainly did now.

“You know this how?” asked Genrei Kuchiki.

“They held a bloody sword and I could see the bodies turning into reishi behind em’. I couldn’t determine their identities because they had already mostly turned to reishi. However, the bodies definitely had shihakusho. A few people in my squad didn't survive the mission so it could’ve been any one of em’.” Shinji felt a familiar sense of guilt well up inside him at the thought of any of his subordinates meeting such an end. It was a burden all captains were familiar with.

“My goodness,” Rose said in an uneasy tone. “Who would do such a thing?”

Shinji shook his head despondently. “That’s just it. I couldn’t make out any discernible features under the cloak. It’s anyone’s guess if it was a man or a woman.”

He noticed Yoruichi subtly eye the new small scar on his right cheek. “By your tone, I assume this individual was not apprehended.” It was not a question.

The Fifth Division captain sighed in capitulation.

“No,” he said. “I was bested.”

The atmosphere of the room dramatically sobered and each captain held similar expressions of concern or alarm. 

Yamamoto calmly opened one. “Explain.”

“This person could withstand my spiritual pressure and saw right through my shunpo. Furthermore, they had no problem keeping up with my attacks.” Shinji paused in contemplation. “I get the impression they were quite experienced with using a sword.”

Kyoraku tilted his sakkat down to shade his eyes. “You think it was one of our own?”

Shinji huffed. The Eight Division captain was far too astute for his own good. “If it was. I think they had to be a lieutenant at least,” he admitted. It had to be said. It was feasible that this hooded individual derived from an outside source; some outlier that they had failed to consider, but Shinji found it unlikely. A person with this level of power and skill doesn’t just appear out of a clear blue sky. 

“But this person,” Urahara began. “Why would they kill two shinigami and yet leave you alive? What’s the motive?” Shinji did not fail to notice the almost excited expression on the blond’s face. Like a giddy scientist that just found a new test subject. 

“Yes, about that..”

Shinji turned, surprised to hear Isshin speak up for the first time this meeting. Did he have some information about the killer that was not disclosed to him?

“A few days ago, my nephew Ganju left the Estate to wander the Rukongai alone. He said he ran into a group shinigami in the outer districts who recognized him as a Shiba and chased him into the forest where they tried to kill him.”

“Shinigami attacked him?” came the soft voice of Unohana. “Is he alright?”

“Yeah, he’s okay,” Isshin responded, though the worried expression on his face suggested otherwise.

“I don’t mean to be insensitive, but how is this relevant?” Love asked with a confused tone in which many captains agreed with.

Isshin was quick to explain: “The relevance is that this took place in the Southern Forest two nights ago on the same night as Hirako’s encounter, and more importantly-” he stopped to look around at the captains- “Ganju said that he a was saved by a person with a black hood and a sword.”

Everyone in the room practically fell on their faces.

“The fuck??!” Shinji cursed before he could stop himself. 

“Why didn’t you mention this from the beginning of the meeting, you fool?!” Captain Kuchiki demanded, his neutral mask temporarily broken in outrage.

“Ehhhhh?” Isshin wore a dumbfounded expression. “So you don’t think it’s a coincidence?”

“There’s no fucking way that could be a coincidence!!” Kensei fumed, steam practically coming out of his ears. Shinji was glad he wasn’t the only one using obscenities in the presence of the Head Captain(whose patience appeared to be thinning, if the bulging vein on his bald head was any indication).

The Head Captain slammed his cane into the floor as he bellowed, “Silence!!” 

The bickering instantly came to an end as Yamamoto quickly turned his attention to the captain of the Tenth. “Captain Shiba, do you mean to say that this individual killed to defend the child?”

“It would seem that way, Head Captain,” Isshin answered, serious once again.

“And did he see the face of the perpetrator?”

“I’m afraid not.”

That took a few moments to sink in. Not a coincidence indeed. That meant this mysterious hooded killer was not _slaughtering_ shinigami but protecting an innocent? Why hide their identity? Furthermore, if it was genuine, the story Isshin’s nephew recounted aroused several questions about the shinigami chasing him.

“I would have noticed if five members of my squad were to disappear. And if any seated officer was chasing your nephew they could have easily caught him with shunpo,” Shinji stated. He doubted anyone in his squad was behind this attack, and the details of this event only strengthened his dubiousness. 

“Indeed,” said Yamamoto. “The circumstances surrounding this incident are most unusual. One thing is certain, the boy is our greatest lead to finding this hooded individual as well as the men he described.”

He paused for a moment in consideration.

“Captain Urahara.” The man in question straightened at the sound of his name. “You are to get the details of the attack from the boy. Determine the validity of his story. And if able, follow up on his claims.”

Isshin visibly paled. “Head Captain, if I might be assigned to this task?”

“I’m afraid not,” Yamamoto declined. “I need a captain without bias. And you are a person of interest in this incident. He is your kin after all.”

“But-” 

“That is final!”

Shinji watched as Urahara placed a hand on the Shiba’s shoulder as a silent reassurance. He was surprised that Urahara was given this assignment, given that Kisuke had only become captain a short time ago. But he had the sneaking suspicion that Yamamoto was testing the man. A test that Shinji was certain the twelfth captain could pass. Though he was still green, Urahara possessed unquestionable skill and a keen intellect. Yamamoto recognized it just as the other captains had.

“Captains of the Gotei-” he opened both of his eyes to pin each Captain with an unyielding gaze- “I do hope for our sakes as well as this individual’s that their identity is revealed quickly. Regardless of the motives of this person, I cannot dismiss their actions,” the Head Captain declared with firmness. “Committing murder and attacking a captain are both class-one capital offenses and this hooded figure shall not be exempt from punishment!”

Well, that escalated quickly. Not that he was expecting any different from the stringent lips of their Head Captain. The subtle threat was a fun touch though; a threat that did not go unnoticed by Shinji or his fellow captains: _“If one of you brats is this hooded person, your ass is grass” - Love, Yama._

Shinji sighed as he felt a headache developing. It would seem their problems were only beginning.

OOO

Kaien sat by Ganju’s futon as he watched his younger brother’s chest rise and fall with each breath. The boy hadn’t slept well since he returned from his excursion from the Rukongai so Kaien opted to stay with him tonight. 

When Kaien had received word that Ganju had left the estate, he instantly begged his captain to allow him to return home. He was grateful that Ukitake had quickly granted his request allowing him to rush home in the hopes that Ganju would be there when he arrived. This was not the case, however. Upon his arrival, Kaien was instantly greeted by anxious and worried faces amongst the Shiba residents, especially Kukaku who looked close to tears. 

_“He’s been gone for hours, but the attendants refuse to let me go looking for him,” Kukaku said with her fists clenched at her sides. “Isshin-ji already went out to look for him but-” she looked at him pleadingly “-please just find him, nii-san.”_

Kaien hadn’t hesitated to rush out into the Southern Rukon where Ganju had been spotted. However, that information hardly narrowed down where his brother might’ve been. After several hours of hopeless searching, Kaien ran into his uncle in the outer districts.

_“Follow me. I asked around. An old man said he saw a young boy running into the forest earlier this evening,” Isshin-ji informed him as they changed course._

_Kaien’s heart swelled with hope. “You think it was him?”_

_Isshin nodded. “Yeah. He said the boy had black hair and nicer clothes than he was used to seeing out here.”_

_“That’s gotta be Ganju!” Kaien exclaimed with glee. Finally, something concrete that could go off of. “But why would he be running into the forest?”_

_They entered the said forest and immediately checked their surroundings for any sign of Ganju._

_“Apparently, he was being chased by some shinigami,” Isshin answered with concern written all over his face._

_Kaien’s eyes widened. “Chased by-!”_

_“Shhh!!”_

_He turned to his uncle, whose eyes were closed in extreme concentration. His captain’s haori rippled in a strong gust of wind.  
After a few moments of silence, the man opened his eyes before turning abruptly in the opposite direction and walking briskly past him. _

_“Hey!” Kaien yelled as he followed him. “Do you even know where you’re going?”_

_“He went this way,” came his cryptic response. Isshin stopped his brisk walk to look down at something on the ground._

_“But how do you know?” Kaien’s impatience was practically tangible now._

_Isshin crouched down to feel a spot of grass at their feet. He held out his hand and Kaien could see that his fingertips were stained red._

_Kaien felt time stop._

_“His reiatsu,” Isshin answered before he stood and started to shunpo in the same direction they were going. Kaien shook off his dark thoughts as he made to follow his uncle’s retreating form._

_“You don’t think that’s his, do you?” Kaien asked as he shunpoed closely behind his uncle. He was slightly petrified to hear the answer._

_“I don’t know, but he’s alive, I can tell you that.”_

_Kaien felt the whirlwind of emotions whisking him away: fear that they may never find him; fear of what state he’s in should they find him, and guilt. How could he let this happen? Kaien was no fool; he knew what had spurred Ganju to do something this reckless: Kaien. He did this. Ganju was his little brother and his responsibility and yet his actions- his words- instilled the notions of martyrdom onto a child! Why did he-_

_“Kaien.”_

_Isshin had come to a stop. Kaien stood beside him to get a better look at what he was staring at. He stared for a few moments at the boy curled up asleep at the foot of a large tree._

_Ganju. Covered in blood- but alive._

_Thank the Soul King they found him._

They quickly took an unconscious Ganju back to the estate where the clan healers confirmed that he had not a single scratch on him. The question of how he had come to be covered in blood still weighed heavily on Kaien’s mind, but at least he was safe. 

When Ganju finally woke the next morning, he described to them his dangerous expedition and the challenges he faced on his journey. Kaien was appalled and astonished to hear that shinigami were nearly responsible for taking his little brother’s life. It was incomprehensible to imagine any member of the Gotei attempting to take the life of a child, but Kaien knew his brother was speaking the truth. Then there was the even greater mystery regarding this “hooded” character that Ganju described. 

Kaien rubbed his temple in frustration. Before he left, Isshin-ji had informed him that he would relay this information at the next captains meeting, which Kaien had mixed feelings about. While this obscure figure may be dangerous, the Shiba Clan owed them a great debt for saving one of their own. 

Ganju stirred and began to whimper something unintelligible. Kaien gently carded his fingers through his hair to ease his mind. The sight of his brother in such anguish broke his heart to pieces, but it also ignited a fire within him that he hadn’t felt in ages. Kaien narrowed his eyes dangerously.

There were many aspects of Ganju’s experience that perplexed him, but one thing was for certain: There were bastards out there who tried to kill his little brother, and they would not escape his wrath.

OOO

Ichigo sat in what must have been a large classroom, but to Ichigo, it more closely resembled a small theater. Ichigo sat on the end of the third row with her feet propped up on the table in front of her and her arms crossed. She supposed this position(along with the scowl and the scars) didn’t exactly scream approachable, which is why people had been avoiding her like the plague, sitting at least three seats away minimum. Fortunately, she didn’t need a conversation to stay entertained. She had amused herself for the past hour by people watching. From the clothes they wore, as well as their mannerisms, Ichigo could tell these people ranged from the roughest Rukon citizen to the loftiest noble; from the humble ruffian to the affluent aristocrat. Though they were all here for the same reason, the two groups made no effort to interact with each other; on the contrary, anyone could see the deep division between them. 

Ichigo sighed. In a way, this place was just as cliquey as high school.

She abstractedly wondered how Kaien fit in when he was enrolled at the academy. While he was a noble, he was also a very kind-hearted person; she couldn’t imagine him discriminating against anyone.  
Ichigo leaned to rest her head on the back of the chair and let out a long exhale. She was not naive. She knew that by joining the Gotei, she would indubitably run into him at some point. That was doomed to be an awkward reunion. 

“Well, well, well. What do we have here?”

For a moment, Ichigo wondered if someone finally worked up the nerve to talk to her. She languidly turned her head to see two familiar faces standing beside her.

“Oh,” she said with bland enthusiasm. “It’s you.”

Ikkaku’s eye twitched in irritation. “What do you mean ‘It’s you’? You could at least try to show some enthusiasm!”

“I see you took my advice and decided to become a shinigami,” Yumichika commented as he pushed past his raging friend to gracefully sit down in the seat next to hers.

“You never actually gave me any advice,” Ichigo pointed out.

Yumichika scoffed. “I was going to before you so rudely disappeared.” 

Ah. That’s right. She did run off during their last conversation to chase after Ganju, whom she never actually checked on to see if he returned to the estate. She sincerely hoped he was safe. She wouldn’t be surprised if that incident didn’t scar him for life.  
Ichigo felt a pang of guilt shoot through her as she recalled how she murdered the two shinigami. It was as if her memories had possessed her, or taken control of her consciousness altogether. 

Ichigo suppressed a shudder. Such a frightening pastime; to question the control over one’s own actions was to question sanity itself.

“So why did you decide to become a shinigami exactly?” Yumichika questioned. Though he asked casually, Ichigo could see the curiosity dancing behind his eyes.

“Change of scenery,” she answered dryly. “You two are set on finding Kenpachi, correct?”

Ikkaku grinned in excitement. “Yeah, that’s right. I’m gonna finish all this school crap in record time like that Shiba kid. Then I’ll join the Eleventh Squad!”

Ichigo turned to Ikkaku. “Shiba?”

Yumichika nodded. “One of the four greater noble families. Usually, it takes six years at this academy before you can graduate and join a squad; however, Kaien Shiba graduated after only two years. That’s why he was considered a genius.”

Ichigo took that in. She vaguely remembered Rukia mentioning something of the sort. And if she was recalling correctly, Gin graduated after a single year, successfully breaking her cousin’s record.

“Ha! If the curriculum is as easy as those “tests” we just took I reckon we’ll graduate in no time at all!” Ikkaku exclaimed.

Yumichika hummed in agreement. “Yes, both the reiatsu and the written test were elementary. I’m curious about when we will be called.”

“Called?” Ichigo truly was out of her depth here. And it did not go unnoticed by her two past friends.

“The better your test score the sooner you’ll be called,” he explained. Yumichika then gave her a wry smirk. “You really don’t know anything, do you?”

Ichigo scoffed and opened her mouth to retort but was cut short by a deep voice filling her ears:

“Can I have your attention, please.” 

Ichigo looked up to see Potato Head himself, behind a podium, at the front of the classroom. He spoke into the microphone with a strong baritone that instantly caught every occupant’s attention. “If you would sit down if you have not done so already,” came the voice.

The room was filled with the soft cadence of shuffling feet as those still standing opted to find a seat. Ichigo subtly glanced around to note that practically every seat had been taken. Obviously, becoming a shinigami was an attraction that caught the eyes of many. 

“You know why you are here,” Onabara began with no preamble. “To become shinigami. The fact that you are in this room means that you have potential. Nevertheless, one cannot become a proper shinigami with potential alone. It takes hard work, skill, and knowledge. These are the things you shall gain during your time at the Spiritual Arts Academy.”

Ichigo turned her head slightly to the right to peer down their row. There was Yumichika, Ikkaku, and then others; dozens of strangers all with a name and with a purpose. Some would become high ranking shinigami, some not. Some wanted to join the Gotei for completely altruistic reasons, others were driven by more self-indulgent motives. 

“The life of a shinigami is not one of lull and luxury. The job of a shinigami is not for the faint of heart, nor the weak of spirit. You will not be asked to fight for your family or to please your superiors, however,” his eagle eyes scoured the audience as if searching for something. “You shall be asked to fight for the good of humanity.”

Ichigo suddenly felt as if she were alone in a room filled with hundreds of people. They knew nothing of what was to come. So blissfully unaware. If they knew of the dark power stirring, would they run? Stand their ground only to fall when it counted?

“When do you think the fighting will start?” Ikkaku asked his friend with a bored expression. “I already got a sword.”

Ichigo was somehow both amused and irritated by his simplemindedness. “Having a sword and knowing how to use it are two very different things, Ikkaku,” she remarked as she idly stared out the window. 

Yumichika chuckled and Ikkaku shot her a seething glare. “You’re saying I don’t know how to use a sword??” he whispered furiously.

“I’ve seen it first hand. You’re good, but you still have a long way to go until you can challenge Kenpachi.”

“Then I’ll start by challenging you, how about that?!” the bald man declared with a gusto that had many students' heads turning.

Ichigo snorted at his theatrics. “That would be a bit premature, wouldn’t it? Or have you already forgotten the outcome of our last fight?” 

“Why you-”

“Excuse me!” Onabara shouted. “Is there a reason you feel the need to talk while I talk? Yes, you. The bald man in the third row.” 

Ikkaku jumped to his feet to point an angry finger at Onabara. “It’s not bald, it’s shaven, you old goat!!” he cried out indignantly. The room erupted in laughter much to Ikkaku’s chagrin. 

“Hmpf, shaven you say?” Onabara grunted, unperturbed. “How clever. Perhaps I should use that one.”

Laughter followed once more as Ikkaku, now blushing furiously, hastily sat himself back down. Ichigo shook her head. The guy was incorrigible.

“As I was saying,” Onabara continued. “We have reviewed every applicant’s results and have put them in the class that befits their skill level. When I call your name, please walk up to receive your schedule. The top fifty will be placed in the advanced class. Is that clear?” 

He eyed the crowd once more before lifting up a thick stack of papers.

He looked down. He looked up. “Ichigo.”

Yumichika and Ikkaku sent her looks of surprise. Ichigo sighed. This was exactly what she feared.

Ichigo slowly stood up. Observers were watching her with different emotions- curiosity, resentment, apprehension. She walked up the stairs and onto the small stage where Onabara stood at his podium. 

He handed her the paper with an expression she couldn’t quite place. “If you would stand here for a moment.” He gestured next to the podium. She raised an eyebrow in suspicion before reluctantly standing to face the crowd as requested. What was he up to?

She heard the crinkling of paper before Onabara spoke up once again: “Gin Ichimaru.”

Ichigo did her best to conceal her surprise.

She detected movement. Her eyes darted to a teenage boy with silver hair standing up with a mischievous smirk upon his lips. A million thoughts ran through her mind as he ambled up to the stage. Most of them involved a certain strawberry blonde. 

Gin accepted his paper and smiled “innocently” at Onabara before standing beside her. She noticed he was only to her shoulder in height.

“Byakuya Kuchiki.”

Even more surprising. Another teenager with ebony locks tied back in a ponytail gracefully rose from his seat, carrying himself with all the poise and composure expected of a noble. Ichigo noted that with his large grey eyes, ponytail, and lithe figure, he more closely resembled a girl than a boy. As he walked past her and Ichimaru, he pinned them each a cold stare reminiscent of his future self. Ichigo took a deep breath. She couldn’t tell whether she wanted to laugh or cry at the sight of her former enemy turned ally and friend. The universe, on the other hand, was most certainly laughing at her. What were the odds that Ikkaku, Yumichika, Gin, and Byakuya were all entering the academy in the same year as her?

Onabara turned to look at them. “Congratulations on receiving the highest scores. You are still expected to work as hard as the other students. We expect great things from you three and hope you will serve as a model to other students.”

Ichigo chuckled under her breath, earning cautious glances from the two teenagers on either side of her as well as Onabara. Was he even trying to be subtle? Yumichika said that the higher your score, the sooner you would be called. Potato Head and the school was placing the top three applicants on a pedestal to “motivate.” Putting the pressure on them to succeed before they even entered the academy. _How unrefined,_ Ichigo thought to herself. She made eye contact with Onabara who slowly looked away.

That might be a problem. At least one of her problems anyway. What was her goal again? To blend in? 

Ichigo stared out into the crowd. Hundreds of eyes stared back. 

It would appear blending in would be harder than anticipated.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys for all the feedback! I won't be able to update as often due to other stuff going on in my life, but I have no intention to stop writing. Feel free to leave a review before you go :)


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! Thank you for all the feedback! Regarding future chapters, there will be a slight pace change. Up until now, the chapters have been very BAM BAM BAM with the pace, and it’s necessary for me to slow things down in order to develop some characters(y’all might hate me for it but oh well). This chapter will give you a peek into Ichigo's mind as she goes through academy life. Hope you enjoy it!

_Tiny grains of desert sand could be felt slipping into her sandals as she trudged through the barren wasteland, the sand dunes creating a perpetual pattern of up and down, up and down. She marched relentlessly for hours on end, the light of the moon illuminating her movements. She could have easily been back much sooner with shunpo or sonido, but she instead used this time to gather her thoughts. For in a time of such bloodshed, rest was hard to come by. Though she was hardly resting. After all this how could she? Her reality was a nightmare. When she dreamt, she thought she was awake. When she was awake, she wished she were dreaming._

_As she reached the peak of yet another sand dune, she glanced up to spot the lights of the camp appearing in the distance. Although it was quite large to be considered a camp per se. Their “camp” was actually Barragan’s old castle when he still ruled over this world before Aizen. They had discovered it on accident but promptly put it to good use as a base.  
The war was being fought on three fronts: the Human World, the Soul Society, and here. Though mostly in the last two locations. The Human World had mostly been left alone, aside from Karakura Town, which was practically razed to the ground a few months prior, killing tens of thousands in the process including-_

_“Ichigo!”_

_The girl in question turned at the sound of her name. She’d been so deep in thought she hadn’t noticed she had reached the outside of the base. Her eyes landed on two figures sitting cross-legged by a small campfire. As she approached them, she noticed the small bowls in their hands._

_“Ikkaku, Yumichika,” she acknowledged them with a curt nod. “Though I admit, my internal clock is a bit out of whack, isn’t it a tad early to be drinking?”_

_Ikkaku's face split into a grin. “Ha! Please, this is Hueco Mundo. Time doesn’t mean shit here. Just look at the fuckin’ moon.” Ichigo didn’t. She didn’t need to. It was always night in Hueco Mundo._

_“Regardless of the time, you two are supposed to be on watch, you know.”_

_“We are aware,” Yumichika assented, lowering the bowl from his lips. “You’re not going to report us, are you Captain?” he asked in a playful tone._

_“How many times have I asked you not to call me that? Ichigo is fine.”_

_Yumichika placed a hand over his heart in a theatrical display of shock. “To address a superior with such nonchalance would be treason! Should I throw respect to the winds?”_

_Ichigo rolled her eyes before plopping down beside him. “You should pour me a drink, that’s what you should do.”_

_Her friends smiled at her. Yumichika grabbed the sake. “If Her Captaincy wishes it, it shall be done.”_

_They sat there for quite some time, talking comfortably with each other, mostly regarding the war. The circumstances that they lived in ensured that that was all they could really talk about. War took your world and turned it upside down. War twisted your morals and beliefs until one day, when you looked in the mirror you didn't recognize the face staring back at you._

_Ichigo watched as a lewd comment from Yumichika brought color to Ikkaku’s face before he quickly reprimanded his companion._

_She was lucky that she had friends to recognize her when she couldn’t. Their comrades supported each other and reminded each other of who they were. Ichigo couldn’t imagine going through this hell alone._

_“Lieutenant Madarame!” A voice from above echoed down to the trio. They arched their necks as they looked up to see a male seated officer leaning over the edge of the parapet._

_Ikkaku scowled up at the messenger. “What now?!”_

_“There is a lieutenants meeting taking place that requires your attendance, sir!” The officer shouted back._

_“Seriously??” he yelled at no one in particular, obviously upset that his drinking had been interrupted._

_“That’s right, sir!”_

_Ikkaku groaned in exasperation. He downed another cup of sake before reluctantly standing up. “Fine, I’m coming for christ’s sake. But you two-” he turned to them with a grin- “don’t drink all the sake while I’m gone, alright?”_

_And in a flit of shunpo, he was gone._

_She took a glance at Yumichika who was staring blankly at the spot where he had disappeared. Ichigo poured herself another, sipping it slowly to savor the taste. Funny how many drank to forget. Alcohol could dull your consciousness, while at the same time keeping you conscious of what you wanted to forget. Ichigo supposed some things were less painful sober._

_“You should tell him,” she said._

_Yumichika blinked before facing Ichigo. “What?”_

_She nodded her head toward the base. “Ikkaku.”_

_The small bowl at his fingertips suddenly required his unwavering attention. “Tell him what exactly?” he mumbled._

_Ichigo shot him a do-you-think-I’m-stupid look. “What do you think?”_

_Yumichika didn’t say anything. Not that he needed to; his expression gave a thousand words unspoken. A thousand truths unuttered._

_“I know it’s not really my business,” Ichigo began again, “I just don’t think it’s something you should keep locked up inside.”_

_Yumichika sighed, long and tired. It was obvious this was something that had been torturing his mind with endless questions of ‘What if?’ Ichigo had subjected herself to this torture many times, her mind drifting off into different worlds, each one containing a distinct scenario or outcome. What if she did this and this happened, or what if she said that and that happened? But one had to be cautious not to lose oneself in these worlds, for they were not real, merely hypotheticals born from one’s deepest fears._

_“What if he doesn’t feel the same?” he asks quietly, his ‘What if’ finally being voiced. His deepest fear coming to light._

_Ichigo put a hand on his shoulder. “Is that any reason not to try?” She hated seeing her friend so downtrodden. Melancholy did not suit him._

_After a long pause, eyes still glued to the swirling liquid in his bowl, he said, “I will tell him...eventually.”_

_Ichigo slowly nodded despite her doubts. In reality, there wasn’t much more she could do for this situation. She could lead the horse to the water but she couldn’t force him to drink._

_“You should tell him as well,” Yumichika said with a knowing smirk, finally looking up at her._

_Now Ichigo was the one confused. “Ikkaku?”_

_He laughed and shook his head. “Both of you are clueless.”_

_Before she could further inquire what he meant, Yumichika stood up, signaling that the conversation was over. “Our watch is over. I think I’ll head back inside. Are you coming?”_

_Ichigo shook her head. “No. I think I’ll sit out here for a moment longer. You can leave the sake.”_

_He smiled weakly at her before disappearing in the same fashion as Ikkaku. Now she had only the moon and a bottle of sake to keep her company._

_She began to wonder when everything became so urgent, so rushed. When did life start to feel so tragically short? Just yesterday they were looking forward to tomorrow. When did they begin to wonder if they would see it? Who forced the Wheel of Time to continue its course?_

_Ichigo finally looked up at the moon._

_She wondered how many heartaches it had laid witness to._

Ichigo slowly regained consciousness. _Another memory?_

She rubbed her eyes tiredly as she sat up on her bunk. She looked around her small dorm which was still shrouded in darkness. Evidently, it was still nightfall. 

After receiving their schedules, all students were given a dorm that they would stay in for the duration of their time at the academy, with one female dormitory, and another male. Typically, each student would share their dorm room with another student, Ichigo however, had not received a roommate, judging from the bunk above hers that had remained empty for four nights straight. Ichigo didn’t know if this was a privilege granted to the top three applicants, or if simply no one was willing to share a room with her. Regardless of the reason, Ichigo didn’t mind it. War made sure you never took peace and quiet for granted ever again. And recently, she realized that this room was one of the few places where she could find either of those things.

-Earlier that day-

Ichigo tried her best not to fall asleep during “History class.”

Life in the classroom was a far cry from life on the battlefield, and she had forgotten what it felt like. She’d forgotten about the days when she would fight thugs with Chad before arriving late to school to get scolded by Ochi-sensei. The days of Keigo’s irrational enthusiasm and Michiru’s indifference. The days of Tatsuki protecting Orihime from Chizuru’s wandering hands, or Ichigo snapping back at Urryu’s stick-ass comments. Those were peaceful days. Boring- but peaceful nonetheless.

Her first week at the academy had also been peaceful and boring thus far. After nearly 12 years of school, one would think that she would be able to reacclimate to her former scholarly ways, however, it wasn’t quite working out that way. On the contrary, she found the classroom stifling, and the curriculum and staff annoyingly opinionated. 

She mostly ignored the teachers as well as the students. People didn’t try to speak with her nor her with them. This was mostly her doing of course. Interacting with others beyond what was necessary was not a priority to Ichigo. Even if it were, the faces she had once been familiar with were now foreign to her. 

She had seen teenage Gin in the halls and in a few of her classes but had made no move to communicate with him. Similar to her, he seemed to be distancing himself from others.

As she had suspected, both Ikkaku and Yumichika made it into the advanced classes as well, though they mostly only interacted with each other. However, today they opted to sit with her in History of the Soul Society, or as Ichigo felt compelled to call it: utter bullshit.

“The Seireitei has always stood as a beacon of strength and hope for all. Even during its establishment in the auspicious year of…”

Most of the people Ichigo cared for were of the Soul Society and a part of the Gotei. Ichigo had fought for the Gotei in not one but two wars; however, she knew that while the ideals of the Seireitei might be genuine, their execution on these beliefs was sorely lacking. The proof lay in the Rukongai, where tens of thousands of innocent souls suffered. Just like in any government, the Seireitei was not without its defects. 

Anyhow, Ichigo did her best to tune out the falsehoods that were being spewed by their sensei. Currently, Ikkaku sat on her right, asleep with his head on the table, and Yumichika on her left, was busy filing his nails(who brings a nail file to school?). Ichigo sat in the middle, not even trying to listen, with her eyes glued on the book she had snatched from the library earlier. Perhaps it was these components that earned them a nickname from a snappish noble sitting directly behind her: “Sensei, are you honestly going to ignore this?? These three hooligans aren’t even trying to pay attention!”

Ichigo snorted. _Hooligans?_

The teacher, an older man, small of stature with half-moon spectacles and bushy grey eyebrows turned his attention away from his chalkboard. “Of course not, Kuchiki-sama,” he responded dutifully. Ichigo resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Fortunately, she had Yumichika to roll his eyes in her place as he continued his filing. 

One fun, new development was teen Byakuya’s distaste for her very existence. Ever since the “Welcome Ceremony,” the Kuchiki had been targeting her with heated glares often followed by angry flips of his ponytail. Truly a threatening display.

“Madarame! Wake up this instant!”

Ikkaku responded in the form of snores that were beginning to rise in volume. The chuckling of their classmates did nothing to calm the teacher’s fury.

He marched up the stairs, textbook in arm, to where his sleeping student lay. He delicately lifted the textbook before slamming it on the table beside Ikkaku’s head with a resounding _SLAP._

Ikkaku shot up so fast Ichigo was surprised he didn’t get whiplash. 

“Wha-what?” he stuttered, trying to shake off the delirium of sleep. 

“Don’t let me catch you sleeping during my class again!” Their sensei squawked before rounding on the two remaining hooligans. “Ichigo, hand over the book! Ayasegawa, give me _that!”_

Ichigo sighed but did what she was told. Her companion did the same, however, grudgingly; shooting their instructor a dirty look as he handed over his nail filer. The old man snatched it tempestuously.

Satisfied with the restored order, their sensei marched back down the steps to the front of the classroom. He picked up his chalk. “As I was saying, the Four Noble Families were…”

Ikkaku pinched his temple as he struggled to gain alertness. “What the hell is his problem?”

“You fell asleep during his class,” Ichigo answered dryly.

“And?” His hands reached for the ceiling as he stretched his arms. “Who wouldn’t sleep during this class?” 

High-pitched giggling arose from behind them. “My, my,” came the voice of what sounded like a teenage girl. Both Ikkaku and Yumichika turned in their seats to find where it was coming from.

“Might I ask what you find so funny?” She heard Yumichika ask sharply. Yumichika was far more level-headed than his bald companion; however, losing his filer seemed to weaken his patience. 

“I find nothing about this situation funny,” answered the girl. “It’s actually quite sad.”

The tone the girl used reminded her of Byakuya’s when they first crossed paths. _Perhaps another noble?_ Ichigo thought to herself. She didn’t turn around. Whoever this person was, Ichigo reckoned they weren’t worth the confrontation. 

The girl had stopped talking for a moment, presumably waiting for the right reaction. Lucky for her, Ikkaku took the bait. 

“What the hell are you talking about?” he growled. 

“It’s just sad that you possess no knowledge nor respect for the rich history of the Gotei,” the girl explained. 

_Definitely a noble._ The privilege was almost palpable. 

“Hmpf,” Yumichika scoffed. “Your point?” She sounded more than happy to oblige.

“It’s a pity to think that uncivilized barbarians such as you can even attend this academy,” the girl said with a melodramatic sigh as if her statement brought her much anguish. It was almost comical. How many nobles were under the delusion that the world revolved around them?

From her peripheral vision, Ichigo could see Ikkaku’s eyes positively light up in rage as he gripped a hand around the hilt of his sword. “I’ll show you barbarian you little-”

He stopped when Ichigo put a firm hand on his shoulder with enough force to keep him glued to his seat. 

She finally turned around to see the leering face of a girl seated to the right of Byakuya. She had short, curly chestnut-brown hair that nicely framed her long oval face and high cheekbones. The grey eyes that scrutinized them seemed vaguely familiar. But what was most conspicuous to Ichigo was the poise in which she held herself. Byakuya held himself with a similar grace. Despite his earlier outbreak, she noticed that the Kuchiki seemed to be ignoring them, more focused on taking notes, which he did so scrupulously. 

She met the girl’s grey eyes with her own. The girl reluctantly met her gaze. “Tell me, what’s your name?”

Her expression briefly morphed into one of bewilderment at the unexpected question, but she quickly remembered her superiority over the said “barbarians.”

“I am Natsume Kyoraku of the Kyoraku family,” she stated proudly, straightening her posture a degree.

A vision of pink flowers and languid smiles flooded Ichigo’s mind. She paused to usurp that information. It would seem her returning to the past was one surprise after another. She couldn’t fathom how this snooty girl could ever be related to Shunsui. Ichigo ignored the ache in her chest.

“Hmm. Natsume you say…” she drawled. The effect was instantaneous.

“You dare address me with such familiarity? Have you no respect?” Natsume demanded. Her disdain was so potent one could smell its stench miles away. 

Byakuya took a break from his note-taking to glance up at the scene unfolding before him. A scene that was catching the attention of other students. A scene that would undoubtedly result in the making of new enemies. So why did she-

“I think you’re the one with no respect. You called us uncivilized, so I thought we might be civilized and introduce ourselves.” 

“She’s right,” Ikkaku spoke up whilst grinding his teeth angrily. “Even when we spar in the Rukon, we show the decency of exchanging names with our opponent before the fight.”

Ichigo watched in fascination as the girl’s composure dissolved into indignation. She sneered at them as she said, “Scum like you don’t deserve names.”

“And yet you went through all the trouble of giving us one,” Ichigo pointed out.

“Are you trying to make me look stupid?” 

“You don’t need my help to do that.”* 

The laughter from her two companions was echoed by spectators. Natsume’s face turned scarlet. Now they had a scene on their hands. A scene that didn’t go unnoticed by their sensei who had ceased talking to determine who had the audacity to cause such commotion during his lecture. 

“What is the meaning of this disturbance?!” he shouted, likely furious for having to pause his class for a second time. His eyes wildly scoured the crowd before eventually landing on the three hooligans who were caught(most unfortunately) with their backs turned. 

_This should be good,_ she thought to herself. 

“You. Three,” he spat, articulating each word with equal force. “I’ve had quite enough of your- your impudent behavior!”

Ikkaku shot to his feet. “Woah, hold on a second! We didn’t-”

“Silence!” he barked. “Ichigo, Madarame, Ayasegawa, see me after class!!”

Ikkaku looked indignant, but he must have realized the hopelessness of their situation as he sat down with a huff. Given her track record, Ichigo supposed it was only a matter of time until she found herself in trouble with authority. After all, she had never been able to conform to the status quo. 

Suddenly, a familiar chill set the hairs on Ichigo’s neck straight up. 

Ichigo’s eyes discreetly searched the room, studying her peers with subtle keenness; however, everyone’s attention appeared to be directed at the professor. 

Not long after, the chill subsided along with the feeling of paranoia, almost as if it hadn’t been there to begin with. 

Almost. 

OOO

“Well, that was close,” Ikkaku said as the three of them entered the cafeteria. It was actually called the “Eatery,” but not only did Ichigo find the name ridiculous, but it also too closely resembled a cafeteria not to call it one. When you walked in you were greeted by a large room with tall, rectangular windows on the far wall. There was a line to get food, and copious circular tables scattered throughout the vicinity. Ichigo watched as students conspicuously avoided the tables where the “popular” kids or nobility sat every lunch without fail(to not so subtly mark their territory). 

_Welcome back to high school, Ichigo._

Ichigo stood in the cafeteria line with Ikkaku and Yumichika following her example. “I think we were lucky to get off with a warning,” Yumichika stated as he received his lunch tray. “I’m surprised that the old man didn’t straight out expel us.”

“I'll say,” Ikkaku grumbled. “It’s such bullshit how the entire school kisses up to the fucking nobles. Right, Ichi- hey! Hey Ichigo, wait up!” 

Ichigo, who had been walking away with her tray to sit where she always did, stopped and turned to the two of them. “What?”

Ikkaku scowled at her. “Where are you going?”

“Outside,” she said flatly. 

“That’s boring. Come and sit with us!”

The hand that wasn’t holding her tray found itself on her hip. “Why would I want to do that? I was nearly dragged into hot water because of you two.”

Yumichika stepped in before Ikkaku could snap back. “Water under the bridge. Besides, we owe you. I’ll give you my apple.”

She could see that there was indeed an apple on his tray, though it was partially brown. Ichigo rolled her eyes. “My, how generous.”

Yumichika chuckled. “I am, aren't I? It’s one of my finest characteristics. Second only to my beauty of course. But I’m sure you already noticed tha-”

“Yumichika,” Ikkaku said.

“Yes, yes. I know. So will you accept our generous invitation?” 

“No.”

“Oh come on!” Ikkaku exclaimed.

Standing in the middle of the walkway arguing was attracting more attention than Ichigo desired, so after a few more moments of pointless banter, she finally conceded and agreed to join them at their table. 

They ate in silence for a few minutes. Ichigo couldn’t help but feel strange. It had been almost two weeks since she first arrived in the past, but it was still quite surreal. She wondered how long it would take for her to get used to this.

Yumichika’s arm stretched across the table to delicately place a brown and red apple on her tray before it retreated back to his side. Ichigo gave him an unimpressed look. Yumichika smiled amiably.

“Because I am a man of my word,” he explained with a familiar toss of his hair over his shoulder.

“I don’t want your moldy apple,” Ichigo said.

“Well, that’s too bad. I am not fond of having debts unpaid, so consider this compensation.” 

Ichigo eyed the apple suspiciously. “Compensation for what?”

Yumichika looked incredulous. “For defending us of course. And for stopping Ikkaku from getting expelled after only one we-”

“I wasn’t going to do anything!” Ikkaku protested while shooting his friend a scathing look.

Yumichika chuckled. “Didn’t look that way from where I was sitting.”

Ikkaku let out a long huff before slumping into his chair. “I just hate how those nobles think they can look down on us. Not like we ever did anything to them…” he trailed off. Ichigo could see the resentment in his eyes. They might claim differently, but the Soul Society and human society were very much the same.

“People like that see the world in a different lens than us,” she said, causing both of them to look up in surprise. “They don’t try to relate to us-” she glanced at the table with several nobles seated around it - “and we don’t try to relate to them.”

Yumichika scoffed. “What’s there for us to relate to?” 

“Yeah,” Ikkaku agreed in a bitter tone. “You said it yourself; they live in a whole other world that we can’t even hope to understand.” 

Ichigo leaned back in her seat, carefully mulling over his words. “Can’t understand? Or won’t?”

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes. “What does that m-”

“Nothing, nothing,” she sighed as she picked up her apple, examining it. Talking to them was like trying to push a brick wall. Walls were not built to be moved. 

“So, me defending your honor earns me a moldy apple?” she asked, successively changing the subject.

“That…” Yumichika put an arm around Ikkaku, causing his cheeks to take a slight rosy shade. “And the joy of sitting with us at lunch.”

Ichigo rolled her eyes again. “Right. So what do I have to do for your sandwich?” 

They talked comfortably with each other for the better part of their lunch break, mostly of inane things. She listened to Ikkaku gush excitedly about eventually learning his zanpakuto’s name and challenging Kenpachi again. Yumichika had a contented smile on his face as he listened to his friend’s aspirations. They looked...happy. Ichigo was struck with the familiarity of her circumstances. It was almost as if they had never died. 

As if they had never...

_Ichigo trudged up another sand dune, with newfound forlornness. Every step was a battle as she willed her tired feet to take another step, then another, then another after that. In the end, that was all they could do: keep moving forward, look to the future and pray for a brighter tomorrow._

_Ichigo managed to reach the top of the dune to see a man kneeling in the sand in front of a dead tree; one with few branches and no leaves. Some were trapped in the past, Yesterday irrevocably following them like a shadow. Ichigo realized that the man was much like this tree; once vibrant and lively with strong roots firmly planted in the ground, now reduced to a mere shell of his previous vivacity, barely managing to stay upright._

_“Yumichika,” she said gently. He did not react in the slightest, his back still to her. “C’mon, you can’t sit here forever.”_

_Silence. Maybe he didn’t know what to say; maybe he didn’t know how to say it, or maybe he simply didn’t want to say anything._

_“I may not know exactly what you’re going through, but I know what it’s like to lose someone you love.”_

_Still no reaction._

_Ichigo let out a heavy sigh. She tiredly sat down behind her friend, feeling the grainy sand beneath her hands. Time was a cruel misconception. You think you have so much of it then you blink and it's all gone. Fleeting moments of peace slip through your fingers much like sand._

_Ichigo placed a hand on Yumichika’s shoulder._

_“Listen...I’m not going to lie to you. This is going to be hard. It’s going to be painful. You’re going to wonder if you’ll ever get past it, or if there is even anything for you past this moment, but you will, and there is.”_

_Ichigo blinked away her tears as she continued. “Wounds this deep don’t heal overnight, but I hope...for you, for me, for everyone...that one day in the future, we’ll wake up, and the pain, while still there, won’t hurt quite as much. I truly hope that. Just know...I’m right here with you.”_

_There was silence again, and Ichigo considered leaving to give him some time alone, despite her believing that solitude was the last thing he needed, but then she noticed the slight shaking of Yumichika’s frame, and she dismissed the thought. When he finally spoke, his voice came out weak and raw as if he hadn’t spoken in many years._

_“What...do you think...was the last thing he thought...before...b-before-” He couldn’t finish the sentence. But it was fine. She knew what he needed to hear._

_“I think that the last thing on his mind-” she took a shaky breath as she struggled to hold back her grief- “would be you, Yumichika.”_

_They sat there for a moment together; Ichigo struggled to comfort her friend; Yumichika struggled to feel comfort. His roots were barely clinging to the earth. For Ichigo, she had lost a friend, but for Yumichika, he had lost his whole world._

_Yumichika let out a weak chuckle. “You’re lying, Captain,” he said, using the title that Ichigo always reprimanded him for. He finally turned to face her with a soft smile and tears rolling down his face. “But thank you...Ichigo.”_

_That was when she saw it: the large hole-like wound on his stomach that was bleeding profusely. Her eyes went wide in concern._

_“Yumichika, you’re injured! When did you-”_

_Her eyes darted back to Yumichika’s to receive some explanation, but his time for answering questions had passed. His eyes were beginning to close. Ichigo watched in slow motion as his body fell backwards like a rag doll, his head landing on her lap. Ichigo watched in horror as the light faded from his eyes._

“Ichigo?”

Ichigo shot up from her seat, her hands shaking ever so slightly.

She blinked a few times before looking down at the two individuals before her.

“What?” she heard herself ask.

They were both staring at her, bafflement written all over their faces. Ikkaku was the first to speak up: “What’s going on? You were spacing out.”

“Yes,” Yumichika added. “Are you feeling alright?”

No. No, she was not. She felt sick. Too familiar. These faces were too familiar. She turned to leave.

“Ichigo!” she heard one of them call after her as she all but ran out of the cafeteria, ignoring the eyes that followed her.

She sprinted around the corner and hastily busted open the door to the bathroom. She threw herself into a stall before slamming the door shut and collapsing to her knees over the toilet.

OOO

Ichigo left the bathroom unsure if she felt better or worse than she did when she ran in. She glanced in the cafeteria to find it empty. She supposed everyone had gone to their next class.

Ichigo ran a hand through her hair. She was going to be late. She could have tried running to her class to make it on time, but she couldn’t find the motivation. Whatever panic attack she had in the bathroom had drained all energy and care from her.

With much effort, she continued the walk to her next class. Hopefully, her sensei would cut her some slack with this being her first offense. 

She had just rounded the corner when she suddenly stopped dead in her tracks. Two figures were loitering in the hall. Recognition lit up their faces as they noticed her presence. It seemed she wasn’t the only one who wasn’t worried about making it to class on time.

“There you are. We were wondering where you ran off to,” Yumichika commented. They stood a good twenty feet away from her, but Ichigo made no move to close the gap. Instead she stayed put, regarding them from a safe distance.

“Shouldn’t you two be in class?” 

“Tch.” Ikkaku crossed his arms stubbornly. “We could say the same. Why did you run off?” 

“Why do you care?” she asked, feeling more tired by the second.

“Well, while we may not be friends per se, you seemed out of sorts earlier so we thought it would only be courteous if we made sure you weren’t throwing up blood somewhere,” Yumichika joked offhandedly. 

Ichigo clenched her fists. Why couldn’t she pull herself together?

“You’re right,” she said, finally managing to meet their eyes. “We’re not friends.”

Ichigo didn’t wait for their reaction as she briskly brushed past them.

“What the hell?” she heard Ikkaku say. “Where are you going now?”

“To class. From now on, keep your distance from me.”

As she walked away, she did not look back once.

-Present-

Ichigo’s bare feet touched the cold wooden floor. She walked toward the one lone window of her dorm and pushed it open. She ducked her head and walked out onto the ledge outside. She adroitly climbed her way up to the roof as she had done for four nights straight, and situated herself with her legs leisurely dangling over the edge. 

Ichigo had noticed these flashbacks were becoming more and more frequent, likely a result of her environment; an absurd environment of which Ichigo never thought she’d find herself again. Seeing the people she knew to be dead, living life with such blissful ignorance of their fate; that was what seemed to be triggering these memories to surface once again. Not that she had forgotten them; merely that she had hidden them away deep within herself as a sort of defense mechanism against the pain. It was as though she were reliving these moments for a second time. Clearly, the universe reckoned one time wasn’t painful enough. 

Ichigo sighed. She longed for sake. 

She leaned back on the palms of her hands and tilted her head back to gaze up at the moon.

The moon stared back in indifference.

*This exchange was inspired by a similar one from Percy Jackson Lightning Thief(for any Rick Riordan fans out there). Obviously, disclaimer: I do not own anything related to the Olympians series.


	7. Chapter 7

Kisuke Urahara stuck out like a sore thumb. His white captain’s haori contrasted greatly against the assorted hues of brown surrounding him, and his fresh appearance did not match that of the poor, bedraggled souls who watched him from a cautious distance. 

The blond sighed in exasperation. There was simply no helping it. He would have worn a regular yukata in an attempt to blend in, but the Head Captain reminded him that he might need his zanpakuto if he encountered the hooded character he was searching for. After all, besting Captain Hirako was no easy feat. This was a powerful individual.

It had been one week since the Head Captain had assigned Kisuke to this mission. Not in any rush, he had spent the time preparing for the mission whilst carrying out his usual Captain duties. However, as always, nothing could prepare him for the pitiful sight of the Rukon.

It felt like quite some time since he had last ventured into the outer districts. He hadn’t forgotten its dilapidated state, but it was still a slap in the face to see how many of these souls lived. Most of the “houses” (if you could even call them that) were in shambles, and even the more intact buildings were missing parts of roofing or even entire walls. Everywhere he looked he saw sickness and suffering. He closed his eyes for a moment, listening to the background noises- hushed conversation, soft sobs of a woman.

With great effort, he opened his eyes and continued to walk. 

Kisuke knew it was improbable that he’d actually run into the hooded person on this excursion. This is why he thought it best to focus on the concrete rather than the illusory; the concrete being the shinigami that the Shiba boy described. He had stopped by the Shiba Estate and spoken to Isshin’s nephew as instructed. After about an hour of questioning, Kisuke still wasn’t sure what compelled the child to venture off into the Rukon on his own, but he believed Ganju’s vivid account of what happened to him(if the child’s haunted expression was anything to go by). And if his instincts were still sharp, then it was around this area that the boy encountered the shinigami he spoke of: five male shinigami, one of which was tall, lean, with unkempt black hair; all of which had an apparent distaste for nobility. Not an exhaustive list of clues to go off of, but it was more than they had before. If he could find these shinigami, perhaps they could offer some information concerning their buddies’ executioner.

From what Captain Hirako had said, Kisuke was certain that these shinigami were not a part of Shinji’s task force. It simply didn’t align with Hirako’s report. And while the Gotei had seated officers stationed in the inner districts, there were none stationed this far out. Kisuke had many theories as to how this situation came to be, and he was intrigued to see what mysteries this mission would unveil. This intrigue is what trounced his apprehension into submission, sending him into the woods where Ganju was nearly killed.

The first thing he noticed when he entered the forest was the serenity of his surroundings. Little spots of sunlight painted the forest floor in a picture of calm that he hadn’t seen in a long time. He stepped onto one and felt its warm light envelop him. It struck him how deceiving this picture was. Beauty fooled oneself into a false state of ease, unknowing of the danger lurking behind its allure.

He spent the next hour or so shunpoing through the forest in search of anything remotely suspicious. Instead, he discovered a recurring pattern:

Tree. 

Tree. 

Rock. 

Tree. 

If there was a danger, it was doing an excellent job of concealing itself.

It was painfully clear that the vastness of this forest could hardly be covered by just him. In retrospect, perhaps he should have brought Hiyori along. Although- he chuckles to himself- an investigative mission did not seem like the sort of situation his lieutenant would fancy finding herself in. Especially a mission as repetitive as this one. Tree. Tree. Rock. Snapped tree. Tr-

He stopped in his tracks.

A fairly thick tree was snapped in half with the bottom still gripping the earth with its roots, and the top half lying defeated in the grass. A snapped tree was hardly anything to gawk at. No, what was peculiar about this broken tree was that there was another snapped tree directly in front of it. Another after that. And another after that. This pattern continued in a suspiciously straight line that led to what appeared to be a forest glade. The details Shinji had given him of his brief fight with the hooded person came to mind.

_“Yeah, they were fast,” Shinji told him after they proceeded to leave the captain’s meeting. “I blinked and next thing I knew, I was flung into like twenty fucking trees.”_

_Finally,_ Kisuke thought to himself. _I’ve finally found it._

He followed the trail of destruction with silent footsteps, nostalgic of his onmitsukido days. He had to be careful not to make himself known lest there be any loitering persons at the scene. 

And what do you know? There was.

On the other side of the clearing stood a shinigami with his back turned to him, appearing to be looking down at something. A shinigami, Kisuke noted, that was tall, lean, with messy black hair. A coincidence? Unlikely. What reason could they have for being at the scene of a crime of all places?

In one shunpo he was behind the man with Benihime at the back of his throat. The black-haired man stiffened.

“I’m gonna need you to turn around slowly with your hands up, please,” Kisuke requested in a low voice, scrutinizing the man’s every movement.

The man did as he asked and slowly turned until he got a good look at the mystery man’s face. Aqua-green eyes met grey ones. The man’s eyes lit up in recognition. Kisuke lowered Benihime in surprise. “Lieutenant Shiba?”

Kaien dropped his arms to his sides as he let out the breath he must have been holding. “Captain Urahara.” The lieutenant had dark bags under his eyes as if he hadn’t slept adequately for some time.

The blond quickly drew a conclusion. “I assume you're here to find the men that attacked your brother?”

He nodded and ran a hand through his hair. “Yes, Ganju told us everything about the night he was attacked.” Kaien’s expression turned dark. “I knew I wouldn’t be able to rest until these men were brought to justice.”

 _This will be problematic,_ Kisuke thought to himself. “Your uncle informed you of what we discussed at the captains meeting, yes?” 

“Yeah. He told me when he returned to the Shiba Estate last week.”

“Then you know that I was given the assignment of locating these men?”

“Well, yes but-”

“Shiba-kun,” Kisuke said in a gentle tone. “I _will_ find these men, but you have to trust me. Interfering in an investigative mission sanctioned by the Head Captain will get you into serious trouble. I’m going to have to ask you to return home.” Kisuke wasn’t a stickler for the rules, but he didn’t fancy stepping on Yamamoto's toes on his first major assignment as a captain. 

Kaien dropped his gaze to the ground dolefully. “I know the risks, but this is more than just a security problem for the Soul Society, it’s a personal matter. And no offense captain-” he glared at Kisuke with renewed determination- “I think the Gotei’s interests lie in finding the person in the cloak, _not_ the avenging of my little brother.”

Kisuke smiled. _Smart boy._ “Yes, you’re right. I won’t lie in an attempt to say otherwise; nevertheless, Ganju is our greatest and only lead to finding both the men who attacked him and the hooded person. Essentially, we find the men who attacked your brother, we have a chance of learning something about this person in black.”

Kaien crossed his arms in obstinacy. “I suppose that makes sense, but it still doesn’t change my mind about pursuing this investigation. No one has to know I’m here. If anyone asks, I was at the Shiba Estate the whole time. Besides, two heads are better than one. We each have our own personal agenda, but our mission is the same. Let me help you.”

Kisuke mulled over his words. The boy certainly made a persuasive argument. Even if he ordered the lieutenant to return home, he doubted that Kaien would heed his order. 

He sighed in capitulation. Shiba’s were unapologetically stubborn. 

“Alright,” he conceded. “I can see nothing I say will change your mind. Let’s start searching the clearing for any clues.”

A smirk appeared on Kaien’s lips. “Way ahead of you.” He took a large step to the side to reveal several scattered patches of red-stained grass, and two katanas lying within close proximity with each other. 

Kisuke squatted down and grabbed the two swords to examine them.

“This is likely the spot where the hooded person killed those two men,” Kaien said. “So these swords must have been the zanpakuto of those shinigami.” 

“So it would seem,” Kisuke said as he stood back up, handing one of the swords to Kaien who took it tentatively. “This one’s still sheathed. I guess our hooded friend didn’t even give him a chance to draw.” When a shinigami was killed, their zanpakuto spirit disappeared with their body, and their swords that remained were just that- swords, with no spiritual properties whatsoever. All the pieces appeared to be coming together, but Kisuke had a feeling they weren’t seeing the big picture.

“What could possess someone to attack a defenseless child?” Kaien asked, the boy’s inner turmoil rising to the surface and settling there.

Kisuke tucked the sword under his obi. “To answer that question-” he flashed him a devious smile- “I guess we’ll have to ask these shinigami ourselves, now won’t we?” 

OOO

Ichigo tried her best not to roll her eyes as she performed another kata. She was currently in her favorite(or least hated) class: Zanjutsu. They were in a large spacious room lacking the desks and chairs that most of her other classes included. The classroom was the perfect environment for children to swing large sticks without the risk of hitting their peers. The unfortunate truth was that this crude description perfectly epitomized what they had done in the class thus far. As first-years, they were informed that they would only be using wooden swords for the entirety of the year(Ikkaku had protested vehemently at this information). About forty students were divided into three rows and spaced out a good few feet away from each other as they each practiced the katas demonstrated by their teacher at the beginning of class. Ichigo, who had never learned any sword katas in the first place, found the repetitive exercise anything but riveting. 

Students didn’t have class over the weekend, so she had spent it mainly in her dorm room(in her inner world more specifically), talking and sparring with her zanpakuto. It was a pleasant break, and as always, Zangetsu and Ossan managed to calm the turbulent seas of her thoughts and emotions. Ichigo had become an expert on thinking on her feet and acclimating to the unexpected during the war. That being said, Ichigo knew this situation was unlike anything Ichigo had faced before and would be difficult to adapt to. She had been so used to her friends being dead. 

These said friends, more specifically Ikkaku and Yumichika, seemed to be giving Ichigo her space(after she so coldly brushed them off a few days prior) and had not attempted to approach Ichigo beyond an awkward greeting in their first class together. It hurt but she knew it was for the best.

If she turned her head a sharp right, she could see the two of them practicing beside each other not too far down the row.

And if she glanced to her left she could see Gin and a little further down...

Byakuya’s grey eyes met her own before he quickly turned away to refocus on the job at hand. 

Ichigo wasn’t entirely sure what the Kuchiki’s problem was with her, but it wasn’t like she was going to ask, so she mostly ignored his ever-scrutinizing gaze.

“Alright! That’s enough!” a voice yelled out that Ichigo recognized as their teacher’s and a head that she recognized as a potato. Ichigo’s peers immediately heeded the order, most heaving as they wiped the sweat from their faces. Onabara began pacing down the aisle of students, eyeing them methodically as a drill instructor might do. Ichigo had to admit that he was an excellent teacher. Many advanced-class students found his tough and unrelenting training regime overwhelming, and some had even dropped out after only a week, which is why their original fifty advanced students had dwindled to thirty-nine. Ichigo; however, was not fazed by the intensity(evident from her lack of sweat). Onabara must have noticed this because he sent her a suspicious glance before continuing down the line.

“Alright. I believe that’s enough for today,” Onabara said to his students. A sigh of relief washed over the students. “Now let’s put those katas into action, yes?” 

Loud groans and muttered curses immediately elicited from the students at the prospect of doing more katas. Ichigo felt inclined to agree with them. 

Onabara scowled. “Enough with your whining! Everyone to the back of the class!”

The students did as they were told and tiredly shuffled to the back of the class, their wooden swords in hand, to form a large semi-circle around Onabara. Their teacher went back to his slow pacing as he scrutinized each of them, his eyebrows slightly furrowed as though he were deliberating a complex equation. He must have computed an answer because shortly after, he called out two names:

“Madarame! Kuchiki! Step forward!”

The crowd began to part for the two individuals. Ikkaku’s bald head caught the light whilst Byakuya’s pony tail swayed left and right as they both stepped away from the crowd to stand before Onabara.

“You two will be sparring against each other while incorporating the techniques we practiced. No maiming. Kido and shunpo are prohibited. This is a battle of the sword and sword alone. Understood?” 

They nodded and Ikkaku grinned, obviously looking forward to the spar. Byakuya kept his usual impassive mask. Ichigo looked forward to seeing how this played out. Undoubtedly, Ikkaku was strong, albeit a bit uncoordinated, but Ichigo knew Byakuya was a fierce adversary(at least in the future). This would give Ichigo a peek into the Kuchiki’s current skill level.

“Very good,” Onabara said. “Take your stance!”

They walked to where they stood about ten feet apart, faced each other, and held their weapons out in front of them.

There was a moment of silence in which Ikkaku and Byakuya stared at one another, waiting expectantly for the signal to begin. 

Onabara gave a curt nod of approval. “Begin!”

Without further hesitation, Ikkaku went straight in with a downward strike. 

_CLACK!!_

The two swords made contact as Byakuya blocked the strike. Ichigo could see his sword tremble slightly under the strength behind the attack. When it came to raw power, Ikkaku most certainly had the advantage.

“RAAAA!!” came what Ichigo assumed was Ikkaku’s signature battle cry. He followed with a relentless onslaught of broad attacks using his usual method of what Ichigo called: _attack now, think later._ Ichigo recalled having fought the same way when she was first learning how to use a sword. Somehow she had managed to stay alive and win fights with this method; however, had she fought the same way during the war she would have been long dead. Or dead-er, she supposed. Raw power alone typically wasn’t enough to win against a formidable opponent(except for Kenpachi, but he was always the exception).

Byakuya blocked another strike at his shoulder with a quick reposition of his sword. Their wooden swords stayed locked there for a moment in a vicious struggle for dominance in which neither was ready to capitulate.

The crowd’s eyes were glued to the fighters which Ichigo had to admit were a fairly decent match. Despite appearing on the defensive, Byakuya had managed to block every one of Ikkaku’s attacks. Ichigo imagined that his sheath would have been helpful for such an issue. Naturally, Ikkaku didn’t let this discourage him; he was enjoying the fight too much(if the grin on his face was any indication).

He surged forward like an angry bull, now back on the attack with newfound vigor and fury. As he pushed forward, Byakuya was forced back on the retreat.

“C’mon Ikkaku,” Ichigo heard someone murmur under their breath. She turned her head to see Yumichika, standing nearby, appearing completely absorbed in the fight. He was watching his friend with a serious expression.

Ikkaku took another broad swing- this time at Byakuya’s head. Byakuya quickly ducked his head as the sword soared through the air above him, the weapon creating a _whoosh_ sound as it flew by. With his defenses now wide open, all Byakuya had to do was stick the tip of his sword right at Ikkaku’s neck.

Ikkaku stared at the blade at his throat for a moment in disbelief.

“We have a victor,” Onabara announced. The people who Ichigo assumed were the other nobles burst into obnoxious cheering. 

“I thought you Rukon scum were supposed to be good fighters?” one of them said.

“Way to put the dog in his place!” another one yelled.

Ichigo shook her head. Did they even hear themselves?

Ikkaku, on the other hand, had most certainly heard them, and he was not about to ignore it. “You think that’s funny huh??” he snarled, gripping his wooden sword tighter. “How ‘bout you little shits come over here and fight me, and we’ll see if you’re still laughing then??” 

Whatever intentions Ikkaku had were promptly thwarted by Onabara, who presumably had decided to step and dissolve the growing tension. 

“Alright, settle down. You will get another chance to spar in this class. I think we’ll do one a day to keep things interesting. That’s all for today. You’re dismissed.”

The students began to clear out. Ikkaku walked out, an angry glint in his eyes. Yumichika followed him with a similar embittered expression on his face. And it wasn’t just Ikkaku and Yumichika that were feeling testy. Ichigo could spot several other students eyeing the nobles with animosity.

 _And so the gap widens,_ Ichigo thought with a sigh.

OOO

As they traversed the Rukon, Kaien had to admit that he was somewhat uncomfortable in the presence of the Twelfth Division captain. On the surface, his appearance was that of a harmless, somewhat dopey man, but the lieutenant sensed a deeper intelligence behind his carefree persona. He supposed that was why the man was the captain assigned to this investigation. That and his onmitsukido experience. Kaien imagined that someone of his background had a knack for tasks such as this one. Urahara certainly showcased his expertise as he methodically interrogated dozens of Rukon citizens with questions such as: “Have you seen any shinigami here recently?” or Kaien’s personal favorite: “Have you noticed any suspicious activity happening in this area?”

“Sir,” a hunchbacked, old woman replied flatly, “This is district 74; there’s _always_ suspicious activity.” 

Although Kaien was impressed with his skills of inquiry, those said skills had proved futile in learning any information about the men who attacked Ganju. Every person who they questioned insisted they hadn’t seen any shinigami or anything suspicious. This did not seem to deter the captain(as they continued to jump from district to district in hopes of uncovering something), but the lack of progress they were making made Kaien fear that their so-called “investigative mission” was more like a wild goose chase. 

Regardless of if they were in fact on a wild goose chase, Kaien knew that neither of them would rest until they found something. For Kaien, the near forfeit of Ganju’s life was something he could never forgive, and for Urahara,...well this would be his first major assignment as a captain. There was a lot of pressure for him to succeed. Though the Shiba had a feeling that he didn’t mind the pressure so much.

Kaien, of course, had no way of knowing what the man was thinking, and Urahara did not communicate whatsoever with his impromptu investigation partner. So now, not only was Kaien somewhat uncomfortable, but also somewhat annoyed. 

“But you haven’t noticed anything out of the ordinary lately?” Urahara pressed. 

“Well...now that you mention it, I have,” the old woman admitted, appearing thoughtful for a moment. Kaien and Urahara perked up in interest. Finally a possible lead. The woman gestured to the two of them with her cane.

“You see...just the other day a captain and a lieutenant of the Gotei visited our district to ask a bunch of stupid-ass questions even though they don’t usually give a flying fu-” 

“Okay, okay,” Kaien relented as he held his hands up in defeat. It was best to defuse the situation before an old woman’s cane was introduced to the captain’s face(though he had to admit the image was somewhat satisfying). “We’re sorry for bothering you, ma’am.”

“Ha!” she barked. “The real problem is that you don’t bother enough! Freakin’ shinigami waltz in here…” The old woman continued to rant as she hobbled away and out of sight. 

Urahara let out a breath of exasperation before perking up once more. “Well, on to the next district!” He turned to shunpo but Kaien stopped him by abruptly grabbing his shoulder. 

“Alright, spill,” Kaien said. “What are you hoping to find?”

Urahara raised an eyebrow in response. “What do you mean Shiba-kun? I’m hoping that we’ll find the men who attacked your brother. That is why we’re here after all.”

The Shiba narrowed his eyes at his innocent reply. The captain really knew how to test his patience. “You know that’s not what I meant. You’re not telling me everything.”

Urahara placed a hand on his chest in feigned astonishment. “Whaaaat? Come now, Shiba-kun. We’re partners in this investigation, I have no reason to hide anything from you. I’m just as in the dark as you are.”

Kaien glared at his “partner.” Though he hated to admit it, the lieutenant knew he needed to cooperate with this man if he ever hoped to find Ganju’s assailants. But how could this partnership flourish on such distrustful grounds? Though his priorities were to his family first, Kaien was truthful about his intentions, and he had given the captain no reason to doubt them. 

“Shiba-kun,” Urahara said, sober once more. “Take a moment to look around. What do you see?”

After a moment’s hesitation, Kaien heeded his request, though he was unsure about what Urahara expected him to see. Their surroundings were what one would expect of any outer district. Poverty-stricken. Neglected. It was the complete opposite of the Seireitei, where food and water were plentiful, and safety was taken for granted. Kaien had promised Ganju he would change this inequity once he gained enough political leverage to do so, however, he still hadn’t followed through on this promise. He looked at the people who glared back with displeasure. 

“Poverty,” Kaien answered listlessly. “And no one seems to like us either.”

Urahara laughed and scratched his neck sheepishly. “Yes, it certainly looks that way doesn’t it?” 

Kaien’s patience was beginning to thin. “Your point?” he asked.

“Don’t you find it odd that absolutely no one has claimed to have seen any sign of shinigami here? Shinigami being this far out is extremely unusual and out of place, so surely if there _were_ shinigami in this area it would have been noticed by the residents.”

Kaien took that in. It was odd though he hadn’t really given it much thought. “Don’t tell me you think that my brother is lying?”

“No, no,” Urahara said with a casual flip of his hand. “I spoke to Ganju myself, and I believe the boy to be speaking the truth.”

...

Kaien waited for him to elaborate, but after several moments of silence, it became clear to Kaien that Urahara had no intention in doing so. _This cryptic bastard will be the death of me,_ the Shiba thought to himself.

“Listen, if you’re not-“

“Excuse me,” a voice interrupted.

Both he and Urahara turned around to see an unshaven man with dark brown hair and a worn, black shawl standing nervously before them. Kaien was quite surprised, and he suspected that Urahara was as well. After getting the stink eye or cold shoulder(often both) from practically every resident, to have one willingly approach them was unexpected to say the least.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but I heard that you two were searching for shinigami in this area?” he asked them.

Urahara perked up in interest. “Yes, we are. You wouldn’t have happened to see any recently, have you?”

The man nodded. “Yes, they’ve been a menace to these parts for a few months now.”

Kaien and Urahara exchanged a disturbed look. “What do you mean?”

The man shifted uncomfortably before continuing. “This group of shinigami...they’ve been taking advantage and terrorizin’ us. Attackin’ people without warning and exploitin’ businesses. But no one’s brave enough to stand up to them since...they’re shinigami and all…” 

He drawled off but Kaien understood the point he was trying to get across. 

Urahara spoke up. “Do you-” 

“Do you know where we can find these men?” Kaien interrupted, his tone laced with conviction. It made him sick to think that shinigami would abuse their power on helpless people. It wasn’t just his brother’s life that had been threatened, but many other people were suffering at the hands of their own forces. No more.

“Um yes, I do,” the man answered. Kaien noticed that his eyes had moved to stare down at the ground with something akin to regret on his face. Perhaps he was simply uncomfortable with the stare that Captain Urahara had pinned him with. Kaien still hadn’t the slightest clue on what he was thinking, but at this point, the only thing on Kaien’s mind was his little brother’s face, covered in blood and tears. 

“Take us there.”

OOO

Ikkaku left Zanjutsu feeling angrier than ever. The only thing stopping him from turning back and beating the nobles into little pulps was Yumichika, whose presence always seemed to calm him in times like these. 

“I hope you’re not letting those nobles get in your head,” he said to him as they sat down their trays of food at their usual table in the cafeteria. The nobles _were_ getting in his head, but that wasn’t the only thing bothering him. 

“I keep losing,” he said plainly. It was the truth. Ikkaku had spent years wandering the Rukon in the search of strong fighters, and while he did find them, he proved to be stronger and defeated them just the same. That was until he faced Kenpachi of Zaraki. Zaraki was his first loss. Before meeting him, Ikkaku thought that a loss meant the end, but instead it was a beginning. After he fought Zaraki, he finally had something to look forward to; a fierce opponent stronger than him and worthy of challenging. But recently, he had been losing more and more. He lost to Ichigo and again today, he lost to the Kuchiki kid. And while Zaraki had taught him to consider himself lucky for surviving a lost fight, Ikkaku still wanted to win so he could prove himself worthy to challenge him again. When he faced Kenpachi of Zaraki again, he wanted to be ready. 

“If you keep scowling like that, you’ll get wrinkles, and those nobles are _not_ worth getting wrinkles over.”

He sighed. “I know, Yumichika. It's just that I came here to prepare to fight Kenpachi again, not to be ridiculed by a bunch of shitty aristocrats. I’m tired of them thinking they're better than us just because-”

“Because what?” a familiar interrupted. They turned their heads to see a slim, brown-haired girl looking down on them both literally and figuratively. 

“Natsume Kyoraku,” Yumichika acknowledged distastefully. “I _thought_ I sensed evil.”

She scoffed. “Charming. Though I suppose that’s the best I can expect from someone like you,” she quipped.

Yumichika rolled his eyes. “Is there something you needed?”

For a second, her eyes scoured the cafeteria as if in search of something before she turned her attention to Ikkaku. “I simply wanted to congratulate you on an excellent spar earlier. Kuchiki-san is an adept fighter so you have no reason to feel ashamed,” she said with a sickly-sweet smile.

Ikkaku narrowed his eyes. “Who said I was ashamed?”

“You’re not?” she giggled. “Well, I’m happy to hear that.”

“Just ignore her, Ikkaku,” Yumichika said as he leaned back in seat comfortably. “She’s just mad that Ichigo humiliated her in front of everyone.”

Natsume visibly bristled at the sound of Ichigo’s name. “That’s hardly what happened. But while we’re on the topic, where is your rather-” she paused in consideration- _“outspoken_ friend? I see she’s not sitting with you this time. Don’t tell me you had a falling out?”

“It’s none of your damn business,” Ikkaku growled. 

“Now, now, there’s no reason to be cross. It was just a question after all, but I suppose I’ll leave you two to enjoy your lunch. I’ll see you in History.” She gave them another pretentious smile before skipping back to her table. _What the hell was that?_

“Unbelievable,” Yumichika scoffed. ‘Enjoy your lunch.’ As _if_ I can do that now. Her presence nauseates me.”

Ikkaku was staring down at his food blankly, the girl’s words ringing in his ears. _“You have no reason to feel ashamed.”_

_“-no reason to feel ashamed.”_

_“-feel ashamed.”_

“Ikkaku?”

Ikkaku jolted up as something touched his hand. Yumichika had placed his hand over Ikkaku’s which he realized was clenching his fork in a death grip. He met Yumichika’s concerned gaze.

“I’m fine, Yumichika. Really.”

Yumichika looked unconvinced, but he seemed to let it go. “If only Ichigo were here. Little Miss Nobility would be too scared to even _look_ at us.”

“Ha. You got that right.” They’d only known Ichigo for a couple of weeks, but she certainly had a presence. Crowds parted for her wherever she walked, and even the teachers seemed a bit wary of her. 

“I still don’t understand what her deal is,” Yumichika said in an exasperated tone. “One minute she’s defending us, and the next-” He throws up his hands in a dramatic fashion. 

Ikkaku shrugged. Ichigo’s sudden erratic behavior was very unexpected and odd. It was a mystery neither of them could solve. “Well, Kyoraku doesn’t seem to like her. Maybe she’s angry with us for putting her on the bad side of a noble,” Ikkaku theorized.

Yumichika hummed. “Possibly. I imagine the nobles are even more irritating when they’re actively out to get you. With their influence, they could easily make one’s life difficult.”

“Tch,” Ikkaku grimaced. “It’s ridiculous. They’ll use anything to try to mock us. Like they win one spar and suddenly they think they're better than the whole class?”

“Wait,” Yumichika said suddenly. He slowly held up one elegant finger. A mischievous smile was forming on his face. “Can you smell that?”

Ikkaku poked at his food. “Yeah, I think the toast is burnt.”

Yumichika pinched his temple in frustration. “No, you sweet simpleton.” 

“What are you talking about?”

Yumichika abruptly slid an arm around his shoulder. Ikkaku hoped he didn’t look as flustered as he felt. Yumichika leaned in closer to whisper something in his ear: _“Revenge,_ Ikkaku. The sweet smell of revenge.”

 _Revenge has a smell now?_ Ikkaku looked into his friend’s eyes which were practically glowing in excitement. He then looked over his shoulder to see the table of nobles. A few of them met Ikkaku’s gaze before snickering amongst themselves in what must have been some private joke. 

No. Not a private joke. _They_ were the joke. Under the table, Ikkaku balled his hands into fists.

Ignoring their close proximity, he turned to Yumichika who was watching him expectedly.

“What did you have in mind?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know my updates are slow, so thank you for your patience. Please review and give me your thoughts! :)


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Hmm. I’m not as happy with these last two chapters, and I don’t know why, but this one ended up a lot longer than I originally anticipated. Hopefully this chapter’s lengthiness will make up for another very slow update. This chapter will be focused on Kisuke and Kaien and chapter nine will put Ichigo back in the spotlight (I’ve already started to write it so fingers crossed for a quicker update). As always, thank you so much for reading my story and putting up with my slow updates and clumsy writing. It means a lot! And Happy Holidays to all! :)

Kaien was practically buzzing in anticipation. As requested, the scruffy stranger had agreed to guide them to the shinigami they were in search of. The man was currently walking in front with Kaien and Urahara following faithfully a few feet behind. Their trek thus far had been a silent one as both the lieutenant and captain receded into their own thoughts. An ominous frown had settled on Kaien’s face that spoke of wrath rarely seen from the usually high-spirited lieutenant. Following the man through the destitute streets of the Rukon, the visions of his baby brother grew more vivid. They flooded his senses and took hold of his emotions until Kaien’s clenched fists shook with ferocity and his eyes burned with the promise of retribution. Perhaps his “partner” caught sight of this because the silence was soon broken by his light-hearted teasing:

“Now, Shiba-kun, I’ll have to ask that you refrain from murdering these men should we find them. It will make my job a lot more difficult.” The captain spoke humorously of a subject devoid of humor. It was something Kaien couldn’t quite get used to. 

“I have no intention of _murdering_ them,” Kaien said, feeling tense. There was something about the man that put him on edge. Perhaps it was simply the fact that Kaien didn’t know him well. 

“I just had to make sure. You look rather angry. Understandably so-”

“Of course I’m angry!” he snapped before hastily shutting his mouth, taking a moment to humble himself. He really ought to be more polite to a superior officer, but he was struggling to reign in his wild emotions. Kaien took a deep breath. “I’m sorry for snapping at you, Captain. I’m just upset.” 

Fortunately, Urahara did not seem offended. “It’s quite alright, Shiba-kun. I understand that you’re angry.”

They walked for a few moments in silence again which Kaien used to subtly study the captain out of the corner of his eye. Urahara’s placid expression was as unreadable as before. Kaien found himself impulsively blurting out a question: “Would you be?”

The blond looked at him curiously. “Would I be what?” he asked.

“Angry. Like if someone you cared about was hurt by another person.”

That seemed to catch the man off guard as he opened his mouth to answer before abruptly closing it again. Urahara looked up at the sky as he took a moment to contemplate his answer. For Kaien, who always held strong emotions when it came to his loved-ones, he found it bizarre that the captain couldn’t answer straight away.

“I couldn’t say,” Urahara said eventually. “All the people I know are capable of handling themselves.”

Kaien eyed him thoughtfully. “I guess you don’t understand then.”

“What’s that?”

“What I’m feeling.” 

Before Urahara could respond, their guide stopped to give them an update. “We’re almost there,” the man said, his back still turned as they continued to walk purposefully toward their destination. “They can usually be found at this bar during this time of day.”

“Is that so?” Urahara said in his usual jovial tone. “You said that these shinigami have been a problem for a few months, yes?”

“Um...yeah,” the man replied, sounding uncomfortable. 

“So why haven’t we heard about this until now? Didn’t anyone think of reporting this to the Seireitei?”

Kaien couldn’t see his expression but he thought he could see the man’s posture stiffen. Urahara was staring holes into the man’s back. Kaien absently wondered if the man could feel it.

“It wouldn’t have done any good,” the man said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“Nothing.”

The man’s curt response was an obvious sign he was in no mood for an interrogation. This didn’t appear to faze Urahara however.

“Very well. On a less important note, what’s with all these cloaks? I’ve noticed that a lot of people are wearing the same thing.”

Kaien blinked a few times in surprise before studying their guide’s attire more intently. That’s when he saw that his cloak had a hood hanging on the back. Kaien then checked his surroundings to study the people skulking in and out of the shadows of the streets and alleyways. Most of them also had hooded cloaks on- some black, some brown. While Kaien had noticed this, he hadn’t really given it any thought, his mind preoccupied with more pressing matters. Urahara, on the other hand, clearly had this enigmatic hooded character at the forefront of his mind. Kaien once again found himself wondering what the blond was thinking.

Their guide seemed to relax considerably. “Yeah, they’re real cheap. I actually just bought my second one here…”

Urahara innocently tilted his head with curiosity. “Do people normally keep two?”

The man scratched his neck and laughed awkwardly. “Haha...no, I uhh...I lost my first one to a pretty lady…”

Before they could inquire what he meant they heard a distant crash followed by muffled laughter. Their guide finally came to a stop. “We’re here.”

Kaien and Urahara stood on either side of their guide to see what “here” he was referring to. Kaien followed the man’s gaze to another run-down building- old wooden planks for walls, a few shabby windows, and a tiled roof. The only thing that set it apart from the neighboring buildings was the set of double doors for the entrance. The doors abruptly opened to reveal a man and a woman stumbling outside, clutching one another and laughing in a drunken stupor. 

“The shinigami are in there?” Kaien asked in confirmation. 

The man nodded. “Most likely.”

“Well, let’s check it out, Shiba-kun!” Urahara said with a friendly pat on Kaien’s shoulder. The blond took a step forward to face the two of them, his eyes practically oozing excitement. Kaien was failing to see which part of their situation was worthy of such unbridled enthusiasm. “But before that- Mr. Guide, I don’t believe we caught your name.”

The man blinked a couple of times, appearing surprised by the sudden question. “It’s Takeshi,” he said after a moment's hesitation.

“Takeshi, I’ll have to ask you to wait out here while we handle this.” 

With that, the captain swiftly turned around and began walking toward their destination. Kaien supposed he was meant to follow. Not that he had any intention of backing out on this mission. No, his duty as a brother and a Shiba would not allow it.

OOO

Urahara pushed open the doors of the tavern to reveal more or less what Kaien expected: A large, windowless room with several wooden tables scattered haphazardly around and a bar off to the side with few stools in front of its long counter. The soft light of the room created a warm ambiance that was a complete contrast to the harsh sunlight outside. Although a bit run down, the tavern was in better shape than Kaien would have expected of any establishment in an outer district. Perhaps that was why it was so crowded. There had to be at least thirty or forty people in the room, most of which were talking or laughing loudly with each other in a boisterous and drunken fashion. 

As they entered the establishment, Kaien and Urahara’s presence was noticed by the occupants. The volume of the room gradually diminished to a low whisper. The previous lively and boisterous atmosphere was replaced with a far more somber one. 

Urahara walked past him to approach the bartender who, like every other occupant in the room, was watching the two of them warily. Urahara smiled at the man (although the same gesture was not reciprocated). “Hello, sorry to barge in, but there wouldn’t happen to be any shinigami here, would there?”

The man pursed his lips as his eyes nervously darted to the side. Kaien followed the bartender’s gaze to the very back of the room where he could spot a few shihakusho amongst the regular yukata and cloaked majority. 

Having noticed them as well, Urahara led the way across the tavern to where three shinigami sat around a small table, appearing more uncomfortable the closer Urahara and Kaien got to them. One of them was skinny with unkempt, black hair. Coincidence?

Kaien stood overlooking the three men with his arms crossed. He cut straight to the chase. “Which squad are you three in?” If these were, in fact, the men who attacked his brother, then there was no reason for him to waste time on trivial formalities.

The three men grew noticeably more anxious, exchanging nervous glances with each other with a light sweat on a few of their faces. The dark-haired man cleared his throat before answering.

“Shouldn’t you know?”

An elusive and evasive answer to a straight-forward question. What should they know? Could they have been wrong and these men were actually _supposed_ to be here? But why? Were these not the men who attacked Ganju? He looked to Urahara for answers, but the captain did not seem perturbed in the slightest.

“Let’s see,” Urahara drawled whilst scratching his chin as if he were racking his brain for information, “Are you three apart of the task force sent out by the Thirteenth a few weeks ago?” 

Kaien stiffened. _What?_

Why would Urahara ask if they were in Kaien’s Squad when he clearly established that he’d never met these men before? Besides, no such task force was sent out. Even if there were squad members dispatched, as the lieutenant, Kaien would’ve known about it. Kaien stared down the captain. _What is he up to?_

“Yes, that’s right,” the man said quickly. Kaien couldn’t believe it. To his knowledge, these men weren’t in Squad Thirteen and this task force didn’t exist, which meant this man was lying. So why would- 

Oh. Unless-

“Ah, so Kyoraku-san sent you,” Urahara surmised. 

There was a brief moment of silence before the man replied. “...yes,” the man said, though the slight lilt in his voice betrayed uncertainty. Now, Kaien understood what Urahara was doing. Apparently, Kyoraku sent them- the captain of Squad Eight. But these men said they were in Squad Thirteen. Why would a captain from an entirely different squad be giving them orders? And how could shinigami not know their own lieutenant and captain?

Kaien could only think of one explanation: These men weren’t shinigami at all.

“Interesting. Did you know that my associate here happens to be the lieutenant of Squad Thirteen?”

The man froze. Kaien could practically see gears in his head turning as he came to a realization. But it was too late. He was already caught in the web of lies that Urahara had spun. 

“So do you recognize him?” Urahara asked, his amiable smile never leaving his face. Kaien could tell that Urahara was aware that his victim wasn’t going anywhere, so the captain wasn’t in any rush. Unfortunately for him, Kaien wasn’t going to waste any more time determining if these men were the ones that attacked his brother. He decided to step in.

“You clearly don’t recognize me as your lieutenant, but maybe you’ll recognize me as someone else.” Kaien took a menacing step forward. “Perhaps as a member of the Shiba Clan?”

The three men didn’t say anything, but they didn’t have to. Their fearful expressions told him all he needed to know. He could feel his temper begin to rise.

“It was you, wasn’t it? You and your goons you-” He felt his nails dig into his palms as he shook with uncontrollable rage- “You attacked someone I care about. Did you really think you would get away with it??”

The dark-haired man spoke up again. He was also trembling ever so slightly, but it was out of fear, not anger. “I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Like hell you don’t know what I’m talking about!!”

“I’m telling you, I don’t!!”

“ADMIT TO YOUR CRIME!!”

“I’M TELLING YOU, WE DIDN’T ATTACK HIM!!”

By the time they had finished yelling at one another, they were both breathing heavily. Urahara had gone quiet along with the rest of the people in the room. Kaien licked his dry lips before speaking up again, this time at a low whisper. 

“I never gave you a gender.”

Those six words had a profound effect on the man. Once again, Kaien could see him slowly realize his mistake. He had said “him,” but Kaien never specified that it was his brother that was attacked. Kaien saw red.

Before he could even blink, Kaien was in front of the dark-haired man. He violently ripped the man from his seat by the collar of his shihakusho to roughly slam his back onto the table with a harsh _CLANG._

“You son of a bitch,” he said in a low voice. His fists were still gripping the man’s shihakusho, keeping him pinned to the table. It was confirmed: these were the men that tried to murder his younger brother. Well Kaien wasn’t about to let them off the hook.

“Why did you do it??”

The man had no response. Kaien could feel his rage fester uncontrollably. He shook his captive violently.

“ANSWER ME, DAMMIT, WHY DID YOU DO IT??”

“LOOK AROUND, YOU BASTARD!!” the man roared back. His eyes were ablaze with emotion: fear, anger, indignity.

Hesitantly, Kaien stopped glaring at the man to look at his surroundings. Naturally, every person in the room was watching the scene that Kaien had created. He was used to people looking at him with compassion like Ukitake, with adoration like Ganju and Kukaku, with respect like his subordinates. But these people...these people only looked at him with animosity, with anguish, with resentment. 

The man spoke up again. “We have suffered!! Goddamnit, we have suffered far more than we should have! We got sick people dying left and right, we got people getting killed by those monsters. Every day I hear about someone losing a friend, a husband, a wife, a child!! What for?? Why are we pushed to the side and ignored?? I’ll tell you why- you shinigami don’t give a shit about us, and neither do your precious noble families! You shinigami have the strength to protect us, but you _choose_ not to! You nobles have the wealth and influence to help us, but you _choose_ not to!”

The man was breathing heavily. Despite his position, he refused to back down, meeting Kaien’s gaze with equal vehemence and fury.

“So we decided that we would become shinigami to carry out justice for ourselves. No one would question us as shinigami. Running into your bratty brother was the perfect opportunity to teach you nobles a lesson.” 

Kaien was left speechless for a moment. The dark-haired man had said his people were suffering from shinigamis’ indifference, but according to Takeshi, these men had been causing issues for Rukon citizens for a few months now. _Doesn’t he realize how hypocritical he’s being??_

“No,” Kaien growled, his wrath barely being kept at bay, “This isn’t justice. You got addicted to the power of being a shinigami and you manipulated that power to take advantage of people. You became so deluded that you harmed the very people you were trying to avenge. You may not have realized it, but your delusion turned you into the very people you despise. How can you claim harming the innocent is justice??” 

“Your brat of a brother was the only one we harmed!!” the man yelled back, “And though he may have been innocent, you and your noble clan are far from it!! You’re upset cause your little brother is dead? Tough shit,” he spat. “Well, now you know how _we_ feel.”

_They thought Ganju was dead??_ There was dead silence for a moment where all Kaien could hear was his own heartbeat. Beating louder, and louder, and louder-

Kaien tightened his hold on the man. “You little-”

“Alright, Kaien-kun. I think that’s enough for now,” Urahara interrupted in his usual sing-song voice as he placed a hand on his shoulder only for Kaien to shake it off irately.

“No way. He-”

“Shiba-kun,” a cold voice said. Kaien was yanked backward by the back of his shihakusho and thrust violently back onto his feet where he stumbled a few times in an attempt to steady his footing. The grip on his shihakusho remained.

Kaien angrily turned to confront his captor. “Hey, what are you-”

But the words of indignation died on his lips at the sight of the captain staring down at him.

“I _said,”_ Urahara spoke in a dark, threatening voice, _“That’s enough.”_ The man’s icy expression froze Kaien in his place and sent an ominous shiver down his spine. He might as well have been a deer caught in the grasp of a wolf. All he could manage was a slight nod.

The captain released Kaien before approaching the man who had sat up from the table to watch their exchange while rubbing his assaulted neck gingerly. 

“Now then,” Urahara started, his casual attitude returning as if the exchange with Kaien hadn’t even occurred. “I have a few questions for you.”

The man scoffed bitterly. “Yeah? Well I don’t have any answers. Go fuck yourself.”

“Hmm,” Urahara hummed while scratching his chin. “That’s a shame. Seeing as answers can only help you at this point.”

He narrowed his eyes at the captain. “What are you talking about?”

“It must have occurred to you that you’re not getting out of this. I have a duty as a captain to uphold the laws of the Soul Society and seeing as you’ve broken quite a few of them, you will be facing certain punishment.”

The man scoffed. “Then I have nothing to gain from telling you anything.”

“That’s where you’re wrong. If you indulge me and kindly answer my questions then I can lessen the sentence for you and your friends.”

That seemed to catch their attention. The dark-haired man studied Urahara intently. “You’re lying,” he determined, though there was a note of interest in the man’s tone.

“I’m not. I can put in a request to higher-ups requesting leniency in punishment. It’s one of the perks of being a captain of the Gotei. Of course, if you would prefer having the Punishment Force doing the questioning then that is perfectly fine. Though I should warn you, I spent many years in the Onmitsukido, and they’re not called the “Punishment Force” for nothing. I can tell you with full confidence that they will not be nearly as generous as I am.”

A light sweat appeared on the man’s brow at Urahara’s words. The man had every reason to be nervous. Kaien had heard rumors of the kind of “work” that the Punishment Force specialized in, and frankly, those rumors alone were enough to make the Shiba nauseous.

The man took a shaky breath. “If I tell you what you want to know...you’ll lessen our sentence, and we won’t be tortured?” 

Urahara smiled and placed a hand over his heart. “You have my word.”

Kaien simply watched the blond in disbelief. Now he knew why he felt so on edge around this man: he was truly cunning. Captains didn’t have the authority to “request leniency,” and these men would certainly be questioned by the Punishment Force regardless of if they answered Urahara’s questions or not. He couldn’t believe the ease with which the captain lied to the man.

“Fine,” the man said, still glaring at Urahara. “What do you want to know?”

“Well, it’s obvious that you gentlemen are not shinigami, so I assume you are just regular souls?”

They nodded solemnly.

“And we know that there are five of you, so where might the other two be?” Urahara asked despite already knowing the answer.

A knowing look passed between the three men. The dark-haired one spoke up again. “We don’t know. They disappeared a little over a week ago.”

“I see. And how exactly did you acquire all the shinigami equipment?”

“We ambushed and robbed some shinigami in the lower districts,” one of the other men explained.

“Really?” Urahara asked in a surprised tone. “How exactly did you manage that?” He had good reason to be surprised. Regular souls getting the drop on shinigami was an impressive feat. 

“Easily. We outnumbered them.” Urahara raised an eyebrow but didn’t say anything more. Kaien suspected that Urahara’s last question was the one he was most eager to ask.

“Very well. One last question-” he lowered his voice so the other people in the bar wouldn’t hear him- “have there been any reports of a hooded assailant around this area recently?”

The confusion on the men’s faces was almost palpable. “Hooded assailant?” the dark-haired man repeated.

Urahara nodded. “Yes, a person with a katana and a black hood. Have you seen anyone who meets this description?” 

“I mean there are plenty of people who wear hoods, and some people who own a sword…” then man drawled off, clearly puzzled by the seemingly random question. Kaien had the feeling that these men were as in the dark on this hooded person as they were. The Shiba doubted that the shinigami pretenders even knew what happened to their buddies who had “disappeared.” Kaien still couldn’t believe the hypocrisy of these men’s logic; their reasoning for harming innocent people; their perception of “justice.” Kaien couldn’t help but wonder how many more people shared this perception. It frightened him to just think about it.

OOO

“You knew, didn’t you?” Kaien asked Urahara as they continued their trek. After they left the bar with the three “shinigami,” they quickly said their goodbyes to a grateful Takeshi and promptly headed back in the direction of the Seireitei. The three men they apprehended walked a few feet in front of them where the captain and lieutenant could keep an eye on them. The men walked in silent defeat, their hands tied behind their backs with low-level kido. 

Urahara glanced at him curiously. “Knew what?”

“That they weren’t actual shinigami.” 

Throughout their expedition, Kaien had the feeling that Urahara wasn’t telling him everything, and after witnessing the captain question the three men, he had a feeling that this was the information that he had withheld.

“I had suspected that they weren’t shinigami when I heard that they didn’t use shunpo when chasing your brother,” Urahara said. “I confirmed my suspicions when we initially questioned the men about their squad.” 

“And you couldn’t have mentioned these “suspicions” earlier?” Kaien retorted, still a bit annoyed and the captain’s secrecy.

Urahara let out an awkward laugh. “Well, I couldn’t be sure if my suspicions were correct, so I waited until I had solid evidence.”

Kaien snorted but didn’t say anything more about it. He didn’t have the energy to argue with this man, and he had other things on his mind, such as the dark-haired man’s words which kept replaying in his head over and over again. 

_“You shinigami have the strength to protect us, but you choose not to! You nobles have the wealth and influence to help us, but you choose not to!”_

Do they really choose not to help these people? Kaien knew the situation in the Rukon was bad, but from what the man had said about all those people dying...it seemed much worse than he could’ve imagined. 

Then Kaien remembered what Takeshi had said earlier that day when Urahara had asked why no one reported the “shinigami” to the Seireitei.

_“It wouldn’t have done any good.”_

It was as though these people had lost all faith in them. Had they been negligent? Had they been ignorant? Or had they _chosen_ to be negligent; _chosen_ to be ignorant. Kaien couldn’t help but feel it was the latter. Had the Seireitei been more prudent- more reliable then they would have discovered these shinigami imposters immediately. They had grown too lax, too indifferent, and they had suffered the consequences of this indifference, or more specifically: Ganju had suffered.

“What are you thinking about?”

Kaien snapped out of his reverie and turned to look at Urahara who was staring ahead. The sun had begun to set and it painted him and their surroundings in a vibrant orange hue. For a moment, he was reminded of Ichigo. He remembered how she told him that she had lost her family. Was her family also victims of their indifference?

“I was thinking about what that man said,” he answered honestly. He glanced at the back of the dark-haired man’s head. The three men were far enough ahead that they wouldn’t hear their conversation.

“He said a lot of things,” Urahara said. “What in particular is on your mind?”

Kaien sighed. Now that the adrenaline rush was gone, he felt the immense fatigue resulting from the day’s expeditions. He wondered if he’d finally be able to sleep well tonight.

“What he said about not caring about regular souls. How we ignore them.”

“You think his anger is justified,” Urahara deduced. The blond was certainly perceptive.

“I think his anger is justified, but I don’t think his actions are. There was no reason for him to direct that anger at an innocent child or the Rukon citizens. I could never forgive him for that.” 

But while Kaien could never forgive the crimes of these men, he couldn’t help but think how this whole conflict could’ve been avoided. These men were so blinded by their anger that they attacked a child. They were so consumed by their resentment that they thought taking the life of an innocent boy was justified. In no way was Kaien trying to justify the actions of these men, but if the Seireitei had been more attentive, perhaps his brother’s life never would have been threatened in the first place. 

OOO

_Ganju was in a forest with trees as far as one could see and a blazing sun watching over him. Fallen leaves crunched beneath his feet as he meandered through the woodland, taking caution as to not trip on any undergrowth. He walked mindlessly for what could have been minutes or very well hours. There was a familiar peacefulness about the forest, reminiscent of the comforts of home._

_After an unascertained time, Ganju spotted something shiny through the trees. He emerged from the thicket to see a tiny pond directly in front of him, no bigger than a bathtub. The brilliant shine on its surface called him to its edge. He looked down at the deep blue water. The water was clear, but Ganju could see no discernable bottom to its depth._

_“Ganju.”_

_Ganju’s head snapped up to see Ichigo standing there facing him on the opposite side of the small pond staring down at him with a familiar scowl on her face. She wore a long black dress that fluttered in the breeze like the waves of a dark ocean._

_“I-Ichigo! W-What are you doing here?” he asked tentatively, trying not to cower under her intense stare._

_“You shouldn’t have come looking for me,” she said. She continued to stare at him, never pausing to blink even once._

_Ganju was growing increasingly anxious. “What do you mean? Kaien-nii is really worried about you.”_

_She shook her head somberly and held out her hands for him to see. They were a deep scarlet._

_Blood._

_He squinted his eyes shut in fear. Now he was most certainly anxious._

“Ganju…”

_When Ganju reopened his eyes, Ichigo was no longer there. In her place stood Kaien, who was staring down at the pond._

_Ganju felt immense surprise and relief at the sight of his brother. “Nii-san!” he exclaimed._

_However, his brother did not answer. In fact, it appeared as though he hadn’t heard Ganju at all. Kaien’s gaze was firmly fixed on the pond below. He noticed that his brother’s eyes were glazed over as if he were in some sort of trance._

_All of a sudden, Ganju spotted movement from behind his brother. A man was slowly making their way to where Kaien was standing. Ganju’s stomach dropped into his feet._

_He recognized that man. It was one of the shinigami that had besieged and attacked him in the Rukon- the scrawny, dark-haired man. The man now stood directly behind Kaien._

_“Nii-san, behind you!!” he yelled frantically. However, his screams did nothing to draw his brother from his trance-like state. Ganju tried to move his feet, but for some inexplicable reason, they refused to budge._

“Ganju, wake up.”

_Ganju watched in horror as the scrawny man mercilessly pushed his brother into the pond with a malevolent grin on his face. Kaien screamed and thrashed wildly in the water, finally seeming to reach consciousness of his situation. His flailing did nothing to stop the water’s depths from swallowing him whole. He heard the very earth laugh in disdain as if the devil himself was responsible for taking his brother. Pulling him deeper and deeper and-_

“Ganju! C’mon, you gotta wake up!!”

Ganju’s sat up with a start. His chest rose up and down in an erratic pattern as he attempted to get his bearings. What kind of dream was that? Ichigo was there, and then Kaien-nii…

He flinched violently when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He turned to see his brother at his side, his eyebrows furrowed in concern. Right. Kaien had come home after his outing with the weird blond man, and he had decided to stay with him tonight since he hadn’t been sleeping well. “Hey, bud. Just take deep breaths, alright?”

Ganju met Kaien’s eyes and began to sniffle. “Nii-san…” he whimpered. He felt pathetic, but the dream had seemed so real.

Kaien quickly brought Ganju into a tight embrace as he began running his hand through the younger boy’s hair in a soothing manner. “It’s okay, you’re okay. It was just a bad dream.”

They stayed like that for a long time. Ganju clinging to his brother as Kaien stroked his head while whispering words of comfort to him. Ganju knew this was the one place in the whole universe he felt safest. Nothing could hurt him here.

“You know those men who attacked you aren’t going to bother you anymore. Urahara and I gave them over to the Gotei. They’re locked up so you don’t have to be afraid,” Kaien reassured. However, this did little to ease his trepidation because-

“It’s not me I’m worried about,” he stated.

Kaien blinked a couple of times in confusion. “What do you mean?”

Ganju tightened his hold on Kaien’s form. “I’m more worried about you…” he admitted softly. 

Kaien chuckled as he rubbed circles on Ganju’s back. “Why are you worried about me?”

Why _was_ he worried? There was no reason to be. He trusted Kaien-nii’s word that the men were locked up, so what was there to worry about? 

“I don’t know. I’m just being paranoid.” He was probably just shaken by the incident. It had haunted his waking days as well as his sleepless nights. And what a weird incident it was. Nearly murdered by shinigami-pretenders and then rescued by a stranger in black. 

“Oh! But I have some good news!” Kaien said in a lighter tone. 

“What?” Ganju leaned back to see his brother’s excited expression.

“You remember how I promised I would help the Rukongai citizens, right?”

Ganju nodded, curious to what he was getting at. 

“Well, today I realized that it was about time that I made good on that promise. I know change won’t be easy, but if we don’t try… then things will always remain the same. And I don’t want that- not for you, not for Kukaku, and not for all the people who need change the most.”

Kaien let out a heavy sigh. “I have to try to help, even if it amounts to nothing.”

Ganju didn’t say anything. He could practically see Kaien’s form tense as his brother graciously allowed the weight of yet another responsibility to fall upon his shoulders. 

He absently wondered if his brother’s need to help people was like the brilliance of the surface, unknowingly drawing him to the edge.

OOO

Kisuke was sitting on the walkway outside his captain’s quarters with his legs dangling off the edge. From here, he got a perfect view of the night sky. He liked to sit here and enjoy the quiet after a long day. Especially now that he was a captain, rest was not often a luxury he could afford. If he wasn’t tending to his captain duties, he was working on a new invention or conducting experiments in the SRDI. These activities were, of course, all very rewarding and enjoyable; however, he appreciated these brief moments of peace; just him and his thoughts. And after a day like today, his thoughts were consumed by theories and hypotheticals.

Kisuke had parted ways with Kaien to enter the Seireitei. After explaining the situation, he handed the three men over to the Second Division to be placed in custody. The three men would be questioned by the Punishment Force, tried, and given a suitable punishment for their crimes. Justice would be carried out-was _being_ carried out right now, and yet-

“For someone who just successfully detained three criminals, you’re not looking too happy about it.”

Kisuke tilted his head back to see the upside-down form of Yoruichi standing directly behind him, her golden eyes holding a familiar playful glint as they stared down at him. Even after all these years, she could still sneak up on him when he least expected it. Kisuke greeted her with a good-natured smile. “Yoruichi,” he said, “you’re up awfully late.”

“That’s my line,” she retorted as she plopped down beside him. She stretched out her long legs as she leaned back onto her hands. “I did what you asked and questioned those men about your hooded person again.”

“And?” 

“And they were quite adamant. They insisted they didn’t have any information. I think they were telling the truth.”

“I see…” In a place as immense and populous as the Rukon, finding the men who attacked Ganju had been an unlikely feat. To also locate the hooded person would have been even more unlikely; nevertheless, Kisuke had been hoping that they would at least uncover _some_ clues. Instead, the mission only cemented the fact that the hooded person could be anyone. Kisuke had seen countless individuals in the Rukon today wearing a cloak similar to the one Hirako had described, and from what Takeshi had said, it seemed as though the cloaks were easily accessible to anyone. 

Yoruichi sighed. “I know you're upset that you couldn’t find anything about this hooded person, but don’t forget about what you _did_ find. Having regular Rukon citizens parade around as shinigami is a serious security issue. You brought this problem to our attention.”

Kisuke knew that she was right, but still, he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. There were several aspects of today’s adventure that alluded him:

1\. Finding the three men that attacked Ganju was quite easy- _too_ easy. Did they simply get lucky?

2\. Then there was the story they told about ambushing shinigami to rob them. Kisuke couldn’t imagine regular souls being able to overpower a shinigami, even low-level shinigami. Perhaps with numbers and the element of surprise they could get the drop on an unsuspecting shinigami? Kisuke still found it unlikely. But even if they were, in fact, lying, why do so? 

3\. The men had claimed that Ganju was the only one they had harmed, but Takeshi had said that the three men had harmed the people of the Rukon for a few months. Who was lying? 

4\. Finally, there was the hooded figure. There just weren’t enough clues for Kisuke to make any kind of conclusion or even a hypothesis about the identity or location of this killer. Unless, of course, there _were_ clues, and Kisuke had simply overlooked them. Then again, with his limited knowledge, he may have witnessed many clues today without even realizing it. Regardless, they would probably have to wait until the hooded person made another move in order to learn anything new about this person. This was the last kind of situation that they wanted, but it appeared to be their only option. Unfortunately, this meant that if this elusive individual decided to kill again, it was unlikely that they would be able to stop him/her. 

“I know that look,” Yoruichi said in a teasing tone, successfully interrupting his train of thought. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”

Kisuke smiled, feeling an old sensation that he had almost forgotten. “How could I do that? Things are finally getting interesting.” 

Yoruichi laughed. “Alright, I can tell nothing I say will change your mind. Just don’t become so impassioned by this that you lose sight of your duties. Remember, you’re a captain now.”

His old friend was watching him carefully, waiting for some sign from the blond that he had at least _heard_ her reminder. Whether he listened to it or not… he supposed it would depend on how he felt, and while he was level-headed, Kisuke often allowed his personal feelings to take the wheel. Yoruichi knew this about him better than anyone, but he would humor her nevertheless.

“Don’t worry, Yoruichi. I know my duties as a captain come first.”

She continued to watch him as if she was deciding if she believed him or not. She must have come to a conclusion because she stood back up, indicating that their conversation had come to an end. “Just take care of yourself, Kisuke. And don’t forget to get some rest. We’ll have another captain’s meeting soon.” She flashed him a grin, before disappearing into the night, leaving him and his thoughts alone once more.

On the surface, it seemed like all their questions had been answered, but in reality, the answers they learned only created more questions. 

Kisuke sighed and looked back up at the star-speckled sky. 

He suspected that until he could find the answers he was searching for, there would be little rest for him.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: Hmm. I was planning on this chapter being shorter than Chapter 8 and yet here I am with a 8k+ word chapter. Anyways, thank you for over 400 kudos! Also! I would just like to remind you that this chapter is taking place the same day as Chapter 7 and 8(yes, the sheer speed in which this story is progressing is mind-boggling). Enjoy!

_Taptaptaptap._

_Taptaptaptap._

The man’s fingers drummed against the surface of his desk. Ichigo noticed that there was a subtle echo to the soft tapping noise. Barely noticeable, but present nonetheless. She supposed this was due to the high ceiling of the room they were in. It was a large office with tall, arch windows. Bookshelves lined themselves uniformly on the walls to her left and right. On the wall in front of her, there was a small tapestry with the kanji “justice” painted on it. 

_Taptaptaptap._

Underneath the tapestry, sat a single man. He was a middle-aged man with dark brown hair tied back in a bun and equally dark mocha eyes. The man did not slouch. His back was perfectly erect in a posture that demanded obedience. His old eyes challenged anyone who dared to question his authority. 

_Taptaptaptap._

And currently, those eyes were scrutinizing the three misfits seated before him.

_Well,_ Ichigo thought to herself, _two misfits and one person with apparently abysmal luck._

“Madarame, Ichigo, Ayasegawa,” the man began, “I am the Headmaster of this academy. You will refer to me as such.” His tone left no room for argument.

The Headmaster lifted the single paper on his orderly desk and began to silently read it. His eyes darted left to right as he read what was written on it likely for a second or even third time. Perhaps he was confirming that his eyes were not playing tricks on him. Perhaps he was confirming that the preposterous event written on that paper (undoubtedly described in excruciating detail) really _did_ happen in his school, just a few hours ago. Ichigo could hardly believe it herself, and she had witnessed the event firsthand. Moreover, Ichigo could hardly believe that she was dragged into yet _another_ one of Ikkaku and Yumichika’s shenanigans. 

After a while, the Headmaster put down the paper to stare them down with a displeased expression on his face. It was an expression that read, _“Congratulations. You fucked up.”_ Or at least that was how Ichigo interpreted it.

“I assume you know why you were called into my office. You are aware of the allegations against you, correct?” 

“We’re aware,” Ichigo said as she sent individual glares at Dumbass One and Dumbass Two seated on either side of her. From what Ichigo could tell, they appeared unrepentant of their actions and completely unsurprised by their current situation.

_“And??”_ the Headmaster said impatiently. “Are these allegations true?”

“What??” Yumichika gasped in feigned shock. “Of course not! This is all just one big misunderstanding, Headmaster.”

Ichigo could feel a headache developing. She really had no choice but to play along with Yumichika’s lies. The Headmaster hadn’t said the word “expulsion” yet, but Ichigo knew the threat was there. Needless to say, it would be a real dampener on her plans if she was kicked out of the Seireitei. 

The Headmaster pinned Yumichika with a dubious look. Clearly, the man was unconvinced that the three of them had no part in today’s incident. He wasn’t the only one who doubted their innocence.

“A misunderstanding? I’ve already heard from several others who seem to understand the situation perfectly fine, and after reading this report-” he gestured to the paper lying on his desk- “it’s clear that this incident was not the result of a simple _misunderstanding._ This was clearly a premeditated and intentional ploy, and if you three-”

_Knock knock knock_

Four heads turned to look at the door where the knocking had emanated from. _A godsend perhaps?_ Unlikely. Ichigo didn’t have that kind of luck.

“Enter,” the Headmaster said loudly enough so that the mystery person or persons behind the door would hear.

With a creak, the door slowly opened to reveal the short, old man that Ichigo recognized as their History teacher. As he shuffled further into the room, she took notice of the man’s pale complexion. Upon further inspection, she could spot several tiny drops of sweat on the man’s face. 

“M-My deepest apologies for interrupting, sir, but there is something urgent I need to discuss with you in private.”

The Headmaster regarded the man for a moment before giving a curt nod. “Very well.” He rose from his seat before turning his attention back to his hooligan students. “You will wait here until I return.”

With his orders successfully communicated, the Headmaster followed their sensei out of the room, the door shutting behind them with a click. 

Ikkaku let out a long sigh of relief before leaning further into his seat and propping his feet up on the Headmaster’s desk. Ichigo hadn’t known the Headmaster long, but she had a feeling that the man would not approve of the action. 

“God, he’s boring,” Ikkaku complained as he tilted his head back to the ceiling. “At least we get a break.”

“You forget that we wouldn’t be in this situation if it weren’t for you two,” Ichigo remarked calmly, not even bothering to look in Ikkaku’s direction. 

Yumichika let out a bitter laugh. “My, my. Upset that we may have foiled your quest for social supremacy?”

_Social supremacy?_ “What are you talking about?”

“Don’t play dumb. You’re not as subtle as you think.”

“Subtle with what?”

“Hmpf.” Yumichika leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms in irritation. “Forget it. You can stop your worrying. There’s absolutely no solid evidence to prove that we were responsible for what happened today.”

“You seem awfully confident of that.”

“Yumichika’s right,” Ikkaku finally cut in, turning to face Ichigo. “We were very careful.”

She met Ikkaku’s serious gaze. It appeared as though Ikkaku was just as confident in their confidentiality as Yumichika was. Ichigo sighed.

“Alright then, walk me through it.”

Ikkaku stared at her blankly. “Huh?”

“Walk you through what, exactly?” Yumichika asked, replacing his hostile tone with one of curiosity.

“Walk me through the hours before the incident. You both seem sure that there is no evidence that you were behind today’s incident, but I’d like to make sure. Besides, if we’re all being accused of a crime, it would help if the three of us were on the same page. I might be able to clear up some things that you seem confused about as well.” 

_Though I’ll likely keep some details to myself,_ Ichigo mused.

The two were quiet for a moment, likely weighing the pros and cons of Ichigo’s proposition. Ikkaku and Yumichika’s eyes met and in an instant, Ichigo could see a silent understanding pass between them. How fascinating it was that two individuals could communicate with one another without actually speaking. Ichigo had seen Shunsui and Jushiro do it on a number of occasions, and it never ceased to amaze her. 

_“The result of centuries of friendship and trust, Ichigo,”_ Jushiro had told her once. 

“Alright,” Ikkaku said, bringing Ichigo’s attention back to the present. “We’ll tell you our story and you can tell us yours.” He glanced at Yumichika again who gave a nod of approval. Ikkaku took a deep breath. 

“It all started this morning after Zanjutsu.” 

-That Morning after Zanjutsu-

_“Revenge,_ Ikkaku. The sweet smell of revenge.”

“What did you have in mind?”

Yumichika chuckled. “I’m glad you asked. I did some exploring around the Seireitei over the weekend and I discovered something that gave me a wicked idea.”

Ikkaku huffed at his friend’s playful antics. “And? Just tell me your idea already.”

“I will in due time,” Yumichika promised, “but first, it’s important to know that this idea will work best if we choose just one person to target. So do you have someone in mind?”

Who? Oh, that was easy. Ikkaku let an evil grin spread across his face. “I think you already know.”

Yumichika replied with an evil grin of his own. “Indeed I do.” However, one glance over his shoulder and his friend’s smirk quickly turned downwards and his brow furrowed.

“What’s wrong?” Ikkaku asked.

“See for yourself.”

Ikkaku mirrored Yumichika’s earlier action and looked over his shoulder. His attention was immediately drawn to a familiar head of bright orange hair a few tables over. Ichigo was standing with her tray in front of the table of seated nobles, chatting with Natsume who was smiling at her as if they were old friends.

“Since when were they so buddy-buddy?” Ikkaku asked with incredulity. He couldn’t believe how Ichigo could speak so comfortably with a girl who had disrespected her just three days ago.

“Hmpf!” Yumichika turned back around. _“Now_ I know why she brushed us off the other day. She wanted to find friends that could help her rise on the social ladder. Unbelievable. Everywhere I look I find a fake-ass hoe. Really makes you question your faith in humanity.” 

Ikkaku watched the exchange between Ichigo and Natsume, only half-listening to Yumichika’s dramatic rant. They hadn’t spent a lot of time with her, but he didn’t get the impression that Ichigo cared about climbing the “social ladder.” Perhaps he simply wasn’t a good judge of character.

“Whatever. I’m over it,” Yumichika said, clearly _not_ over it. “We have bigger fish to fry. We need to get out of here so I can show you what I found.”

Ikkaku turned back to face his soon-to-be partner-in-crime. “You mean right now? It’s outside the school, right? What will people think when they see two Academy students just wandering around the Seireitei in broad daylight?”

“This plan needs to be completed within a specific time frame, and I’d prefer to do it sooner rather than later. As for being outside the school, no one will notice us because we’ll be in stealth mode.”

_Stealth mode?_ Ikkaku wasn’t sure how he felt about the mischievous glint in Yumichika’s eye, or how this plot would play out, but for better or for worse, things were about to get interesting.

OOO

Ichigo was being watched. Of this, she was sure. She had felt uneasy since day one at the academy, and this sensation had persisted throughout last week. Even today, she could not shake the ominous feeling of someone’s eyes on her. The question was who? She had kept her guard up all day and watched her surroundings with extra precaution; however, thus far, she had been unable to ascertain who exactly was watching her. 

She continued to subtly check her surroundings as she stood in line for food in the fantastically-named “Eatery.” Out of the corner of her eye, Ichigo could spot Yumichika and Ikkaku sitting at their table, sitting conspicuously close together with Yumichika whispering something in his blushing friend’s ear. It was somehow both amusing and heart-wrenching to see. 

“Miss? You’re holding up the line.”

Ichigo blinked a few times, realizing she had spaced out again. It was becoming a bad habit of hers. She grabbed her tray and began to walk to where she usually ate: outside. It wasn’t as if she could ask to sit with her former friends. After all, that would be in direct contradiction to what she told them last week.

_“From now on, keep your distance from me.”_

Ichigo ignored the familiar pain in her chest. After all, she had more important things to do than make friends.

“Oh, Ichigo!” came a nearby feminine voice. She stopped and looked to her left at the table of nobles that she had almost passed. There were six of them seated around the circular table. Anyone would be able to distinguish them as nobles; each of them held themselves with similar elegance and pomp that the other tables lacked. Most of them looked at her with a mix of disgust and apprehension, aside from teen Byakuya, who merely studied her fixedly. Meanwhile, Natsume, presumably the one who had called out to her, had a friendly smile plastered on her face, although it didn’t quite reach her eyes.

_Surely, they weren’t the ones who were watching me,_ Ichigo thought to herself.

“Ichigo, I’m glad I caught you,” Natsume said. “Would you mind if I took a minute of your time? That is, as long as you’re not busy at the moment.”

Ichigo said nothing for a moment. She had assumed that the noble probably didn’t like her too much after what happened in History last week, and judging from the looks Ichigo was receiving from the rest of the table, Natsume’s friends didn’t care for her either.

“Go ahead,” Ichigo said.

Natsume clasped her hands together and rested them on the table in front of her in a diplomatic manner. “I fear that we got off on the wrong foot last week. I was wondering if we could start over?”

A few of the other occupants of the table were eyeing their friend suspiciously. Ichigo could be wrong, but she thought that this suspicion was warranted. Ichigo had only interacted with Natsume once, but that had certainly been enough to make an impression: the impression being that this sudden friendliness was unorthodox behavior for Natsume. Regardless, Ichigo answered-

“Sure. I don’t have a problem with that.” Ichigo didn’t know what the girl’s intentions were, nor did she really care, but there was no reason to fan the flames by saying ‘no.’ 

Natsume’s smile widened considerably at her reply. “Excellent! I’m happy to hear that. Would you care to join us for lunch to commemorate this occasion?” 

Ichigo was slightly taken aback. After she had so strongly communicated that Ichigo was beneath her, to ask her to sit at their table was unexpected. The table must have thought so as well because their grimaces had turned to outright gaping. Ichigo receiving an invitation to sit at their table must have been akin to a peasant receiving an invitation to a royal ball. Natsume certainly thought so, if her smug expression was anything to go by. Ichigo would imagine that a lot of people would jump at the opportunity to associate with nobles and possibly raise their social status. 

Ichigo, however, was not one of those people. 

“No thanks. I prefer to eat alone. Later.”

With that, Ichigo left the dumbstruck table of nobles to head outside. On her way there, she noticed that the table where Ikkaku and Yumichika sat was now vacant, despite the fact that it was occupied just a few minutes ago. _Where did they go?_

Well, she supposed it wasn’t really her business. The two were likely set on skipping History(and who can blame them?). If they continued down this path then they might just live up to the “hooligan” status that was given to them.

Ichigo stepped outside, her sandaled feet making contact with the soft, green grass. It was a small, square, garden-like area boxed in by the walls of the academy. There were a few benches scattered around and a singular tree growing in the center. Students often walked through this area as a shortcut to get from one side of the school to the other. Aside from that, no students chose to sit out here during lunch, apparently preferring the more crowded and raucous cafeteria. 

Ichigo stood out there for a moment, once more checking her surroundings with as much secrecy as she could muster. The sensation of being watched seemed to have dissipated, at least momentarily. 

With surveillance completed, Ichigo vanished from the small garden, only to reappear on the roof of the school, food tray in hand. Aside from Friday’s lunch(when she had sat with Ikkaku and Yumichika at their table), Ichigo had sat up here for every lunch period, relishing the quiet atmosphere. She knew it was unwise- no, downright _foolhardy-_ to risk using shunpo when she was supposed to be a regular first-year student, and yet she kept on taking that risk. Why? She wasn’t completely sure. There was something about high places that made her feel at ease.

From here, Ichigo could look over the vastness of the Seireitei; over the countless white buildings with orange-tile rooftops; over the spotless, marble ground that reflected the sun. She could see Sokyoku Hill in the distance, which towered over it all, ever an imposing figure.

How strange it was to gaze upon a Seireitei not laid to ruin. Only a few weeks ago, Ichigo was standing on that same hill, looking over a very different scene.

_This_ was the kind of peace that she would never take for granted again.

On the other hand, Ichigo couldn’t simply sit idle and enjoy this peace, not when she knew what she knew. Ichigo’s problem(or one of many) was that she knew very little about her current time period. Since landing in the past, the only things Ichigo had learned were the names of a few captains as well as the fact that Kaien was currently a lieutenant. She needed to investigate further. She had hoped to save this for when she graduated, but what if Aizen planned to carry out his hollowfication experiments _this_ year? Was he even a lieutenant yet?

Ichigo sighed tiredly as she watched shinigami move hurriedly through the intricate maze of the Seireitei. How many of these men and women were hollowfied the last time around? How many of these unseated officers, seated officers, academy students-

…

_Academy students?_

Ichigo sat up to get a better look, ensuring that her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her. They were not. The white and red colors of the academy uniform were unmistakable. And upon closer inspection, she was able to recognize the individuals that wore them.

_Ikkaku and Yumichika?_ She’d recognize that bald head anywhere, and where Ikkaku was, Yumichika was typically nearby. What were they doing outside the school, displaying what Ichigo could only describe as shady behavior(as if being outside the school wasn’t suspicious enough). They were leaning against a wall of a nearby building, heads darting left and right in a paranoid fashion. Ichigo supposed they were attempting to go unseen. It was quite ambitious(or stupid) to attempt such a feat in broad day-light, especially considering the number of shinigami running about. 

_Just what are they trying to do?_

Little did they know, their attempts at whatever they were doing were about to be thwarted.

From Ichigo’s perch, she could see two shinigami about to round the corner to where Ikkaku and Yumichika had positioned themselves. In a few moments, these shinigami would stumble upon the two academy students outside the school displaying suspicious behavior and they would, indubitably, question these two shady academy students regarding their suspicious behavior.

Ichigo huffed. She supposed this was simply the consequences of foolish actions. Perhaps Ikkaku and Yumichika would learn to be less rash from this experience. Hell, maybe Ichigo would get caught using shunpo and learn a similar lesson.

Ichigo could hear her hollow’s unscrupulous snickers in her head. 

**“C’mon, Queenie. When have you ever let possible consequences keep you from makin’ dumb-ass decisions?”**

“Tch.” 

As much as Ichigo would have liked to respond to the obvious jab, she knew her hollow had a point. She also knew there was no way she would be able to just sit here and do nothing. Ichigo groaned as she reluctantly stood up. She was probably going to regret this.

Ichigo had to act quickly. Surely, there had to be a way to warn Ikkaku and Yumichika without further entangling herself in a possible disaster in the making. Ichigo wildly scoured her surroundings, desperate for anything she could use in this situation. Her eyes ended up landing on her lunch tray, or more specifically, the contents of her lunch.

It was a good thing she had a strong arm.

OOO

“I still don’t see how _this_ is stealth mode,” Ikkaku commented as they plastered themselves up against the wall. They had managed to slip out of the school with relative ease, but now that they were outside the academy, Ikkaku was beginning to suspect that Yumichika hadn’t planned very far ahead.

“It’s stealth mode because we are being _stealthy,”_ Yumichika shot back. “And keep your voice down.”

“Yumichika, we’re out in the open and there are shinigami everywhere.”

“Yes, I _realize_ that. We’re almost there so just-”

“GAA!!!”

Ikkaku and Yumichika both jumped in surprise before looking frantically behind them where the noise had emanated from.

“Must be shinigami,” Yumichika said, looking slightly panicked. “C’mon we have to hide.”

After quickly looking around the corner closest to them, Yumichika signaled that the coast was clear. They scurried around the corner in the hopes of putting some distance between them and the shinigami, but their voices only grew louder. 

“This way!” Yumichika whispered furiously, practically dragging him by the arm into a narrow alley until they could go no further. 

Ikkaku’s back was roughly pressed against Yumichika until he could feel every rise and fall of his chest as his friend struggled to catch his breath. Ikkaku swore he could feel his Yumichika’s heartbeat as well, pounding riotously in his chest. Or perhaps that was his own heartbeat thumping rapidly. If so, it was due to adrenaline, _not_ Yumichika’s hot breath on his neck. Definitely not.

“God, that hurt,” he heard one of the shinigami say in a whinging tone.

“Stop complaining. We’re wasting time,” came the stern voice of another.

“I was just pelted with an apple, and that’s all you have to say?” 

The banter between the two shinigami gradually diminished until all he could hear was his and Yumichika’s breathing, which was slowly returning to normal as the threat of them being discovered slowly receded. 

“What was that about?” Ikkaku asked when he finally found his voice.

“Ha!” Yumichika sounded smug. “Clearly, the gods are looking down on us. Come now, Ikkaku. It’s time we complete our sacred mission.”

It only took a few more minutes to arrive at their destination and during that time, they, fortunately, did not experience any more close encounters with any wandering shinigami. When they arrived at their destination, Ikkaku was decidedly unimpressed at what he saw. It was a building similar to many others they had passed on the way there: white concrete walls, an orange-tiled roof, and no visible windows. 

Ikkaku shot Yumichika a look that clearly read: _Really?_

Obviously receiving the message, Yumichika immediately got defensive. “I know! I know it doesn’t look like much from the outside, but it’s what’s on the inside that you need to see.”

Yumichika immediately went up to the door of the unassuming building and opened the door, gesturing for Ikkaku to go inside. Ikkaku raised an eyebrow but walked inside nonetheless. He was surprised that they were able to just walk in without a key or anything. Just how shitty were shinigami’s security measures?

Casting those thoughts aside, Ikkaku took the time to assess his surroundings, half-expecting to discover some sort of magical object or device that screamed “revenge.” Alas, he saw nothing of the sort. It appeared to be a normal storage house for shinigami, with spare shihakusho, sword sheaths, and other basic shinigami materials stored in wooden boxes.

Ikkaku turned back around at the sound of a door closing.

“I thought you said you found something that gave you a ‘wicked idea’?” Ikkaku said. He was beginning to wonder if this was all just some elaborate trick that Yumichika had cooked up.

“Ikkaku, your doubtful tone wounds me in ways you can’t even fathom,” he responded with his usual melodramatic flair. “Just because you cannot see it, doesn’t mean it isn’t there. It simply means you’re looking in the wrong places. Come over here.”

Ikkaku grudgingly followed his friend over to a remote corner of the warehouse where a few wooden boxes lay.

Without further hesitation, Yumichika threw off the cover of one of the boxes, allowing Ikkaku to see what was inside. What he saw made his eyes widen.

“Are those-”

“Yes. Now you’ll need to listen carefully as I explain how this is going to work. Do you trust me?”

Ikkaku nodded dumbly.

Yumichika smiled at him and he felt his heart begin to race again. 

_Must be the adrenaline._

OOO

“You’re late,” her snarky History teacher remarked as he opened the door, granting Ichigo entry into the classroom of already seated students. She couldn’t have been more than a minute or two late, but the old man was a stickler for punctuality.

“Bathroom,” she replied tersely as she strode past him to find a seat by a window, ignoring the feeling of the old man’s scornful eyes on her. He must have realized the pointlessness in scolding her because he promptly closed the door and walked back to his chalkboard to continue his lecture. 

Now that she was seated, Ichigo propped her head upon her hand and began staring out the window, mentally preparing herself to tune out her history teacher for the next painstakingly-long hour; however, just as the teacher restarted his lecture, he was interrupted yet again by another tardy student. 

_Knock, knock, knock._

Their teacher’s discontent was palpable.

“Unbelievable,” he mumbled furiously as he stomped over to the door once more. “Students these days have no sense of decorum. Back in my day, we would get a beating for arriving late to class.” 

“Madarame!” the old man barked as Ikkaku casually strolled into the classroom, suspiciously _not_ with Yumichika. “You’re late! You better have a good excuse!”

“Bathroom break,” he replied with the same excuse and give-no-shits attitude that Ichigo had used. He walked past the seething teacher and, much to Ichigo’s surprise, took the seat directly to her right. 

Meanwhile, the teacher slammed the door shut before facing the class. “The next person who comes to my class late gets a week’s detention!” he declared before stomping back to his chalkboard.

Ichigo turned to Ikkaku. “Where’s your other half?” She was surprised that the two of them hadn’t skipped History altogether.

Ikkaku blushed slightly at her choice of words before letting out an angry huff. “Why do you care?” Ichigo could hear the bitterness in his tone. Perhaps he was upset at her for her previous standoffish attitude.

“I saw you two leave the school,” she said, noticing him flinch at her words. “I thought that you two would be skipping class.”

“Yumichika isn’t feeling well,” was his vague reply. “I don’t feel well either, so open that window, will ya?”

Ichigo watched her old friend skeptically. If he was so angry with her then why did he choose to sit beside her in the first place? Nevertheless, she heeded his request and opened the window beside her, allowing the warm summer breeze to slip in.

And the breeze wasn’t the only thing to enter through the window. 

Mere seconds after Ichigo opened the window, a large, black butterfly, about the size of her palm, also fluttered into the classroom.

_A Hell Butterfly?_ Hell Butterflies were used commonly by shinigami, but she wasn’t expecting to see any in the academy. It flew so close to her that Ichigo could make out the subtle violet edges of its wings.

“Ah, a Hell Butterfly,” the teacher said as he noticed the delicate creature float across his classroom. “Observe, children. Hell Butterflies serve as guides for shinigami going through Senkaimon as well as messengers. Upon contact with a Hell Butterfly, a message is delivered to the recipient. For centuries, shinigami have…” 

By now, however, Ichigo suspected that no one was listening; they were too busy watching the butterfly as it fluttered over to the area of the classroom where the nobles sat. 

“Ha!” Natsume said with a smug expression on her face. “If _anyone_ is receiving an important message from a Hell Butterfly it would be a noble.” Her companions snickered in agreement.

Ichigo snorted. Was receiving a message from an insect really worthy of such boasts and bravado?

As it would turn out, the Hell Butterfly _did_ end up being for a noble. Natsume, to be exact. The class watched as the critter landed gracefully on Natsume’s finger which she had stuck out for that purpose. Clearly, Natsume was already familiar with Hell Butterflies and their function. Her self-contented expression showed that she had no qualms about exhibiting this expertise.

However, not long after the butterfly landed and Natsume presumably received her personal message, her smug expression changed to one of passionate bewilderment. 

“W-what is the meaning of this?!” she screeched in outrage as she abruptly stood from her seat, staring furiously at the Hell Butterfly on her finger as if the creature had wronged her somehow. 

Before anyone could process what was happening, two more butterflies entered through the window of the classroom. 

_Three Hell Butterflies?_

The two butterflies traversed across the classroom to reach their destination: Natsume, who no longer looked so eager to receive her messages. The second butterfly landed on her head, gently stretching its wings upon its newfound perch. The third butterfly settled on her shoulder. Natsume’s eyes grew distant as she listened to her messages.

“This sounds like…” She looked around the classroom frantically until her eyes settled on Ichigo- no, _Ikkaku._

“You!!” Natsume pointed a finger at Ikkaku with the hand that didn’t have the Hell Butterfly. “This is your doing!! You and your...where is he?!”

At this point, Ichigo thought it was fair to say that everyone in the classroom was confused about what was happening. Natsume’s accusatory finger was shaking in fury. Ichigo couldn’t help but wonder: _Just what messages were on those Hell Butterflies?_

Ichigo glanced at Ikkaku, searching for answers, only to find a smile resting on his face. A _vindictive_ smile.

“Now, now. Let’s settle down,” their teacher said, attempting to mediate the very confusing situation unfolding before them.

However, there was no mediating the chaos that followed.

The appearance of a high-speeding, dark blob in the corner of her eye was all the warning Ichigo had before she instinctively jerked backward in her seat, narrowly avoiding an army of Hell Butterflies that blasted through the small, open window on her left. It was as though a dam had been broken, allowing dozens upon dozens of large, black butterflies to flood into the classroom at lightning speed.

“Holy shit!” she heard someone yell.

“What’s happening?!”

To say that the number of Hell Butterflies entering the classroom was excessive would be an understatement. There had to be at least a hundred Hell Butterflies now within the classroom, but strangely enough, not a single one appeared set on delivering their messages. Instead, they haphazardly darted around the confines of the classroom, swarming around the students as if they weren’t quite sure what to do. And the butterflies weren’t the only creatures unsure of their next course of action. By this point, the students had begun to panic, with some frightfully scrambling to the outskirts of the classroom, some cowering under their desks, and others inching in the direction of the door. 

“Oh my god! What do we do, Sensei??”

“I can’t die here! Not like this!!”

“SILENCE!!” the old man bellowed, effectively pacifying the distressed students who quickly quieted, turning their full attention to their teacher. Ichigo couldn’t help but be impressed by the efficiency with which he took control of the room.

“Now then,” he began in a strong, authoritative voice, “there is absolutely _no reason_ to panic. We shall exit the classroom _calmly_ and alert the Headmaster of this predicament.”

He further illustrated his point by quietly ambling over to the door where he turned the knob and began opening the door.

Or _tried_ to open.

The old man began by leisurely nudging the door: an action that _should_ have resulted in its opening. When that didn’t work, leisurely nudging turned into forceful pushing. When that didn’t work, forceful pushing turned into a plain assault on the door. 

The old man slowly turned to face the expectant faces of his students. He cleared his throat as he prepared to make another announcement. “The door doesn’t appear to be opening, b-but there’s no need to p-panic…” 

A fresh wave of Hell Butterflies flooded through the window, and that must have been the last straw for the now shaking man.

“Okay, we’re trapped; EVERYONE FOR HIMSELF!!”*

With that, the calm and composed atmosphere that their teacher had managed to attain was instantly destroyed, leaving what Ichigo could only describe as pure pandemonium. Students scattered hysterically throughout the classroom. Some of the students opened a few more windows- likely hoping to escape through them- only to provide the Hell Butterflies another point of entry, which they promptly took advantage of. A few other students were attempting to open the door by bulldozing themselves into it. One student actually fainted and was currently residing on the floor.

Ikkaku got to his feet and began to walk away to do God-knows-what, but Ichigo stood and roughly grabbed him by the back of his uniform.

“What did you do?” she demanded, possessing no doubt in her mind that he and Yumichika were somehow behind this lunacy. Their suspicious movements prior to this catastrophe, Yumichika’s absence, and Ikkaku’s earlier reaction all strongly suggested their guilt.

Much to her surprise, Ikkaku seemed to be as disconcerted as his classmates. He, however, appeared more _confused_ than frightened. 

“I-I don’t know,” he admitted, his eyes darting frantically around the now uproarious classroom. “This isn’t how it was supposed to happen.”

Before she could ask _what_ was supposed to happen, there was a sudden and dramatic shift in the Hell Butterflies’ behavior. 

The butterflies simultaneously ceased their erratic movements, serenely hovering in place as if they were moving in slow motion; as if time itself had- for the briefest of moments- slowed down. In turn, the students too simultaneously stilled, watching this strangely peaceful development with wary interest. 

The peaceful development was gone in an instant. Time returned to its previous progression as the Hell Butterflies seemed to be thrust into motion by some newfound sense of clarity; of purpose; of direction. And the direction in which they moved: the space above where Natsume stood. 

Every Hell Butterfly within the classroom began to fly synchronously toward the ceiling where they formed a black, swirling vortex above Natsume, who looked up at it in pure trepidation, seeming frozen in place. And with a speed that _no butterfly_ should _ever_ be capable of reaching, the dark swarm of butterflies descended upon Natsume like an evil cloud of death, swallowing her up until she was no longer visible.

“AHHHHHH!!” Natsume screeched, now just a blob-like figure encased in black. “SOMEONE GET THESE THINGS OFF OF ME!!”

Blob-form Natsume stumbled forward. She twirled and twisted her body in every direction, madly swinging her arms in desperate attempts to shake the Hell Butterflies off. 

“IKKAKU, YOU BASTARD!! YOU’LL PAY FOR THIS!!”

Ichigo looked back at Ikkaku again to see his earlier vindictive smile had returned, and Ichigo’s earlier question answered: _this_ was what was “supposed to happen.” This was a quest for revenge, and judging from the outcome, revenge had been acquired.

Nevertheless, revenge always came at a cost. Ichigo knew this better than anyone. How did those two dumbasses intend on getting out of this one?

-Present-

“So both of you left lunch early to go to that warehouse where the Hell Butterflies were. It was here where you gave the Hell Butterflies messages for Natsume. Ikkaku went out the back door to go to class to open up a window in the classroom while Yumichika would remain at the warehouse to allow the butterflies to escape. After releasing the butterflies, Yumichika would return to the school and barricade the door so that Natsume couldn’t escape. Yumichika would then hide in the bathroom until your revenge was completed,” Ichigo surmised as all the pieces appeared to fall into place.

The two of them nodded. Ichigo shook her head in consternation.

“How did you know when to release the Hell Butterflies?” Ichigo asked Yumichika. “Did you simply hope that Ikkaku had already opened the window when you set them free?”

“Sort of. Since it had only taken five minutes tops to walk from the school to the warehouse, I waited for about five minutes before opening the warehouse door,” he explained. So it wasn’t complete guesswork. Still, the prank wouldn’t have succeeded had Ikkaku not gotten the window open in time. Even the slightest delay could’ve foiled their plans(not to mention if they had been seen).

Yumichika cleared his throat. “In any case, it would appear that our plan was executed to perfection. Aside from the slight issue with the Hell Butterflies. I suspect that mishap had something to do with the sheer amount of butterflies we used. Nevertheless, as you heard, we left absolutely no trace of evidence that could incriminate us. Even if Natsume swears she heard Ikkaku and I’s voices on the messages, all we have to do is deny any involvement.”

Ichigo was beginning to understand what Yumichika meant. Since only the recipient of the Hell Butterfly can hear the message, there was no way for anyone else to check to see whose voice was on the message. When Ichigo thought about it, the prank was actually quite clever. The only problem was who Ikkaku and Yumichika had chosen for their target: a noble- someone with connections and power that far exceeded their own. Ichigo remembered how nervous their History teacher had seemed when he had asked to speak with the Headmaster earlier. She had the feeling that the three of them would not be leaving this room completely unscathed.

“While there may not be any solid evidence pointing to our guilt, there also isn’t any evidence pointing to our innocence,” Ichigo stated. “We weren’t seen during lunch because I went outside and you two were setting up the Hell Butterflies.”

“How did you even see us leave in the first place?” Ikkaku asked her, raising an important question that Ichigo had hoped to avoid.

“I sometimes sit on the roof of the school. I saw you from there.”

Ikkaku looked at her quizzically. “How the hell did you get up the-”

“Not important. Right now we need to worry about our lack of alibis.” 

Yumichika suddenly emitted a foreboding chuckle. “You don’t need to worry about that. It just so happens that I came up with an ingenious idea to get us all out of this mess.”

Ichigo supposed Yumichika’s confident attitude and declaration were supposed to be reassuring, but to Ichigo, who knew her old friend well, it only filled her with concern. She didn’t trust this “ingenious idea” for a second. Especially considering the fact that his last idea was the one that got them into the aforementioned “mess” in the first place.

“I can tell you’re doubtful, but hear me out. Since we don’t have alibis all we need to do is come up with an explanation so unexpected and breathtaking that he totally forgets the fact that we’re probably guilty.”

Ichigo couldn’t stop the next words that came out of her mouth: “That’s idiotic.”

“And _that’s_ rude.” 

“Alright, Yumichika,” Ikkaku said, sounding just as concerned as Ichigo felt. “What’s your ingenious plan?”

Yumichika appraised his bald companion, humor and fondness in his eyes. “You’re not going to like it,” he admitted after a moment’s silence. This did not deter Ikkaku in the slightest as replied, unwavering:

“I believe you. Let’s hear it.”

Ichigo watched the situation unravel with something akin to sad amusement. How many times had she witnessed this very scene occur? One of them would conjure up some brash scheme and the other would go along with it. Like how a planet revolved around the sun. Or one crazed squirrel chasing after another. Somehow, the second comparison seemed more accurate.

Even in the past, this cycle persisted. The only difference now is that she was in the middle of it. A position that Ichigo had desperately attempted to avoid to no avail. Regardless, now that she was in it, she might as well listen to Yumichika’s undoubtedly disastrous plan. 

OOO

“Now then, where was I?” the Headmaster said as he sat back down behind his desk, wasting no time returning to the matter at hand. The man had just reentered the room, conspicuously without their History teacher. Evidently, the “something urgent” that the professor had mentioned had been properly discussed.

“Premeditated and intentional ploy,” Ichigo answered flatly, wanting nothing more than to get this ridiculous episode of her life over with. She was a war veteran for God’s sake.

“Yes. This was clearly a premeditated attack. I questioned several other students on their thoughts on the matter and there were several suggestions that the three of you were behind this incident.” 

Ichigo didn’t say anything, and she was thankful that Ikkaku had wisely chosen to do the same. The “several other students” that Headmaster had spoken to were likely the nobles seeking revenge. 

“And while admitting to taking part in this ploy has its consequences-” he gave a foreboding pause- “the consequences of keeping quiet about one’s involvement in this ploy are far more severe.” 

Ichigo kept her expression cool and unamused as the Headmaster warned/threatened the three of them. It wasn’t very difficult considering how ineffective the man’s threats were. The fact that the man was urging them to admit their guilt proved that he and the nobles had no solid evidence to prove that Ichigo, Ikkaku, and Yumichika were indeed guilty. 

Yumichika also seemed impervious to the Headmaster’s threats. “As I said before, Headmaster: this is just a-” 

“A misunderstanding?” the Headmaster interrupted. “I find that unlikely. And if I were you, I would start taking this a bit more seriously. The circumstances surrounding this incident paint a very suspicious picture indeed. First, there’s the fact that the three of you disappeared during lunch.”

Ikkaku and Yumichika disappeared. _Ichigo_ just wanted to eat outside.

“The fact that you all arrived late to class, or didn’t attend class at all.”

An unfortunate coincidence. 

“The fact that you opened the window allowing the Hell Butterflies entry into the classroom.”

Ikkaku actually managed to trick her into becoming an unwilling accomplice in their reckless scheme.

“And most incriminating of all, Miss Kyoraku swears that she distinguished two voices on the Hell Butterflies; two voices that she said belonged to the two of you.” His calculating eyes darted from Ikkaku to Yumichika. “She also mentioned a third voice that she said sounded like a woman’s.”

Ichigo continued to show no reaction when the Headmaster’s accusatory eyes met hers. She didn’t bother to look at the men on either side of her; undoubtedly they were confused after receiving this information. Ichigo, Ikkkaku, and Yumichika, all knew that there was no “third voice” on those messages. So either Natsume got confused and misheard something, or she was lying in order to implicate Ichigo further in this incident. One seemed more plausible than the other. 

Fortunately, Yumichika did not allow this new information to distract him from his objective. “I can see how that may seem suspicious,” Yumichika began, “but I assure you we had no part in this. Ikkaku briefed me on what happened and it sounded like a very chaotic event. Natsume must have heard incorrectly in all the confusion.”

Yumichika didn’t falter in the slightest when lying to the Headmaster. Not that she was surprised. After all, the Yumichika in her time had been an adept liar as well. The ease with which he deceived reminded her of a few other cunning liars that she had known in her past.

Naturally, the Headmaster appeared as unconvinced as before which was hardly surprising given the “circumstances” that he had listed. 

Regardless, while expulsion was a possibility, it was not an option. 

The Headmaster let out a long sigh. “Very well. Let us pretend for a moment that Miss Kyoraku got befuddled amidst all the Hell Butterflies and pandemonium. That still doesn’t explain where the three of you were before the incident. If you can provide solid alibis then-” 

“I’m afraid we can’t do that,” Yumichika interrupted, his carefree tone being replaced with a far more serious one. 

This sudden change in attitude seemed to catch the man off-guard. He paused his inquisition to stare at Yumichika, brow furrowed and eyes suspicious. 

“Why is that?”

Yumichika bit his lip as if in nervous deliberation. “You see, Headmaster, while Ichigo is telling the truth about being in the bathroom, Ikkaku and I were…”

“You were what?” the man demanded, patience clearly dwindling.

Yumichika met Ichigo’s eyes, a silent conversation passing between them. Ichigo nodded, already regretting agreeing to this ridiculous idea.

“We were together...romantically speaking, sir.”

The Headmaster blinked one- two- three times before finally opening his mouth to speak.

“Romantically spea-”

“Yes, it’s true! We are but mere fish swimming in the stormy seas of passion from which there is no escape, no refuge!!” 

The Headmaster appeared at a loss for words as he fumbled to find his voice. “...I-I fail to see how this is important.”

“It is of utmost importance, sir!! We cannot provide the alibis you seek because it was only he and I alone- two souls wandering through this cold, winding road of life in the hopes that we may find warmth!” He violently jumped from his seat, the sheer force of the act tipping his chair over behind him. Clearly, he was fully committed to this role. Ichigo glanced over to Ikkaku to see him attempting to cover his flushed face with his hand(not succeeding in the slightest). Alas, Ichigo couldn’t feel much sympathy for him seeing as he had agreed to this trainwreck as well.

“We were not prepared for the world to hear of our intimacy so we kept quiet. We had hoped that by arriving to class at different times, our fellow peers would be less suspicious of us, but now it appears as though this beautiful union must come to light! HEAR THIS, SIR!”

He slammed his hands on the Headmaster’s desk with a loud _CLANG_ before leaning in close to stare down at the man. When he spoke up again, it was now at a low whisper.

“The Soul King himself could descend from the heavens and demand that the bonds of this connection be torn apart, but even so, this love shall only be taken from my cold, dead hands as I will forever cling to it until I take my final breath.” 

He managed to finish this declaration in one breath before he hastily took another. 

“Now then, Headmaster...have we come to an understanding?” 

OOO

“Unbelievable,” Yumichika said as the three of them walked down the pristine halls of the school. Ichigo walked in front and the two misfits trailed a few feet behind her. Needless to say, they did not come to an understanding with the Headmaster, or at least not the kind of understanding that Yumichika was hoping for. After deciding their punishment and giving a few more “friendly warnings” telling them to clean up their act, the man had released the three students to return to their dorms since the school day was already over. Upon leaving, Yumichika had immediately voiced his vexation.

“He has no evidence, but we _still_ got punished. Whatever happened to ‘innocent until proven guilty’??”

“We _are_ guilty, Yumichika,” Ikkaku stated.

“He doesn’t know that!!”

“It doesn’t matter if they don’t have evidence,” Ichigo said as they continued their unhurried trek to the dorms. “Without any evidence, it was brought down to the word of a few unruly students-”

“Hey!” Ikkaku protested.

“-against the word of several angry nobles. Most likely, Natsume and her friends threatened our History teacher and demanded that we receive punishment unless he and the school wanted to face the wrath of the nobles. I wouldn’t be surprised if their families got involved as well.” 

_“From what your teachers told me, this isn’t your first offense for arriving late or causing a disruption in class,” the Headmaster said, presumably referring to the previous interaction with Natsume in History Class._

_“So whether you were behind this incident or not, it’s about time you three faced the repercussions of your actions. Therefore, you all will serve detention on Saturday. I trust you have learned a valuable lesson from this ordeal and will make the necessary changes to your behavior.”_

“You sure seem to know a lot about the Seireitei’s politics,” Yumichika said in an impressed tone. “And I was under the impression you didn’t know about anything beyond the Rukon.”

“It’s no different here than it is in the Rukongai,” she replied cryptically. Ichigo had never been particularly interested in the politics of the Seireitei, nor did she care that the nobles held a considerable amount of power in the government. She simply didn’t like the way the nobles used that power. She felt the same about Central 46 and its policies. In fact, her opposition to Central 46’s policies is what immersed Ichigo in the spirit world in the first place. Not that this was anything new to her. Even in Ichigo’s time, the nobles and Central 46 held significant influence over the Seireitei. The only difference now was that the Shiba Clan was still prominent. 

_A fact you won’t be able to avoid forever,_ a little voice in Ichigo’s head reminded her.

“Hey, Ichigo.” She felt a tug at the sleeve of her uniform as she abruptly came to a stop. She turned to see both Ikkaku and Yumichika standing in place. Ikkaku was scratching the back of his head awkwardly as he regarded her with a certain hesitance. “Listen uh...I’m sorry for dragging you into this. We saw you talking with Natsume and well...we thought you had ditched us to find better friends, but I can see now that that was a stupid thing to think. Especially since Natsume probably lied saying that she heard another voice on the messages. She clearly dislikes you as much as us.”

_Yes, it’s all very reassuring,_ she thought sarcastically, though she didn’t particularly care if she was in Natsume’s bad books.

“And Yumichika’s sorry too,” Ikkaku added before sending his friend a pointed look. _“Right, Yumichika?”_

Yumichika sighed as he grudgingly met Ichigo’s eyes. “Not taking responsibility for one’s mistakes is an ugly thing to do. We shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions, so yes, I am sorry as well. I also apologize for calling you a fake-ass hoe. It would appear that this time... _I_ was the fake-ass hoe.”

“It’s fine,” Ichigo said. “I don’t care how you feel about me, and I don’t care what you say about me.”

“So cold. Even after all we’ve been through?” Yumichika wrapped an arm around his friend’s waist to roughly pull him to his side. “The three of us just tricked the Headmaster into thinking Ikkaku and I are in a scandalous affair! If that doesn’t bring three people together, I don’t know what will.” 

Ichigo had to bite her lip to prevent her from snickering at Ikkaku’s tomato-red face. “You honestly believe that he fell for that lie? Also, it’s not an affair because neither of you is in a relationship.” 

“Semantics,” he brushed off with a flip of his hand. “Whether you like it or not, it seems like the three of us are destined to be friends. And you know what they say: friends who lie and scheme together, stay together!”

Ichigo scoffed. “Seems like a respectable foundation to build a friendship on.”

“We’re in agreement then!” 

Ichigo had to wonder if he couldn’t hear sarcasm, or if he simply chose not to hear it. 

“Whatever,” she said as she turned away from the two men. “Do whatever you want.” She began to walk away only to hear the pitter-patter of feet following close behind her. 

On the bright side, she hadn’t had any flashbacks around Ikkaku and Yumichika today. She wondered if this meant she was improving. Somehow that seemed too optimistic. Optimistic or not, Ichigo knew that inevitably, she would be forced to see and interact with the faces of her past on a daily basis, and she couldn’t have a mental breakdown every time she saw her fellow squad members, or her lieutenant, or her captain. She had to make more of an effort.

“Looks like this is where we part,” Yumichika said.

Ichigo looked up to see the doors that led to the girl’s dormitory. The entrance to the boy’s dorms was further down. 

“I guess we’ll see you tomorrow, Ichigo,” Ikkaku said with his signature grin. With that, they proceeded to walk past her. 

Ichigo stood before the doors of the dormitory, her eyes not leaving the retreating backs of her former friends until they disappeared around the corner. Now that she was alone, she allowed a sad smile to grace her lips.

“...see you tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author’s note: *The door scene was inspired by a certain episode of The Office(Office fans undoubtedly know which one). Obviously, disclaimer: I do not own the Office. Also, I know I’ve already done several of these “flashback chapters,” so I won’t do another one like this for a while(lest you get bored). I genuinely hope you enjoyed this chapter. Let me know your thoughts in the comments!


End file.
